


Always Read The Fine Print

by MysticPuma



Category: Magical Diary
Genre: Consumation, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fine Print, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Misunderstandings, Old customs, Sex, Sexual Content, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 46,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1898064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticPuma/pseuds/MysticPuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the Summer, Ellen finds something that puts Arianna's life in danger... Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Arianna was my first character from Magical Diary, and I tend to use her name since I can't be bothered to think of others. This fic is not tied to my other fic "The Story Never Really Ends" even though the characters have the same name. This is a different Universe to that one XD Just so that's clear x

I was, honestly, having a wonderful summer.

After a while, my parents became accustomed to my presence, and things became easier between us. It was by no means the way it had been before I’d gone to Iris, but it was better than I could ever have hoped for.

I was lying on the grass in the garden. My parents were both at work, so I had the house to myself. But I elected to lie outside, with a book in my hands. I was in the middle of reading “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes”, a collection of short stories about the British detective. Strangely, Holmes himself reminded me greatly of my husband, Hieronymous. Tall, dark haired, clever, extremely blunt and, above all, unbelievably English.

Perhaps I should explain when I say my husband… Anyone hearing me say I had a husband would probably go quite pale… After all, I was barely 17 and married.

It was all a bit of a mess really… As freshman treasurer it was my job to get up at 5am every Saturday (yes, it’s about as thrilling as it sounds) in order to distribute the allowances and mail for the student body. A horrid task, really… But someone had to do it. And that someone was me.

One fateful Saturday, I reported to the accounting room, as usual… But I was greeted by a most disturbing sight. Professor Grabiner (who most students were completely terrified of) was sprawled on the floor, unconscious, with this big blue _thing_ hovering above him (I later found out the “thing” was a Manus). I, in all my youthful ignorance, had panicked and crossed the white marks on the floor to try and help him, worried that if I went to fetch someone it would be too late. Unfortunately… that made me an easy target.

The Professor had put the circles down himself. They were holding the Manus, which was bound to serve his family; meaning he was in no danger, but I was. If Professor Potsdam hadn’t shown up, I would be dead…

Awkwardly, though, the way to save my life was to make the Manus recognise me as one of the family it served. And so I ended up marrying my Professor.

Hieronymous (that’s his first name… impressive, right?) had at first seemed to hate me (with good reason, I suppose). But as the term progressed, we learned things about one another, and I dare say we became friends, and then something a little more.

I still remember the final day of term quite vividly in my mind. That was the day I’d finally made my feelings clear… And then he’d kissed me.

It hadn’t been an overly passionate kiss, but it had been like a promise, or a greeting, and I couldn’t help feeling giddy afterwards, or whenever I thought of it. It made me think that perhaps… perhaps our marriage could at least _become_ a normal one.

So, anyway… When I finished the story I was on, I placed a bookmark in my place and put the book to the side, holding an envelope in front of my face so I could read over the address, written in a beautiful cursive that could only be identified as his. I smiled, pulling the letter out for the third time that day. I liked to re-read the letters he sent me. He’d only sent a few so far, and they were simple and reserved, but they were letters from _him_.

_Dear Arianna,_

_It is always nice to hear from you, and I am glad to know that affairs with your parents have become easier._

_With summer lessons to teach and meetings to go to, I have found little time to myself and therefore cannot answer your question as to what I am reading… as I am not reading anything, other than your letters, which at least give me something to look forward to._

_I must admit, it is still odd to be teaching lessons that you are not present for; I had grown quite accustomed to your presence… Perhaps that is strange of me._

_I look forward to your next letter._

_Yours,_

_Hieronymous._

I smiled. I had yet to write a reply as I had received the letter a couple of days ago, but been unable to read it immediately. Also, I had been relaxing all day, and hadn’t decided exactly what to write, but I had been thinking of ideas.

Folding the letter up, I returned it to its envelope, and looked up at the sky briefly, then at my watch. If I was quick, I still had time to write and send a reply, but I didn’t want to rush my letter. I was, after all, corresponding with a teacher, bad grammar due to rushed writing would not go down well. I couldn’t help laughing a little as I imagined Hieronymous’ look of disgust if I sent him such a letter.

Just because I wasn’t going to get it sent, though, didn’t stop me from deciding to begin it anyway. So I sat up and stretched with a yawn.

Picking up my book, I headed towards the house.

As I was about to go up the stairs, I noticed we’d received mail. Discarding my book on the side table, I bent to collect the small pile of envelopes and rifled through them, until I recognised Ellen’s handwriting. I threw the rest of the mail atop my book, and sat on the stairs to open the letter.

_Arianna,_

_This is an emergency, I can’t tell you in full yet, but you’re in danger!_

_You have to come back to Iris Academy NOW!_

_Professor Grabiner has put a glamour on this letter, to your parents it will be for extra study. That’s all they need to know._

_Please don’t ignore this, or reply…_

My eyes widened. What the hell? My throat constricted in panic. _Emergency… danger…_ I couldn’t understand it. In danger from what? I couldn’t think what was wrong…

Suddenly, I heard the lock in the door open, and looked up as my Dad entered.

“Hey kiddo.” He said, clearly confused as to why I was sat on the stairs. “What you got there?” I just handed it to him silently, watching as he scanned it. “Great student… potential… Extra study? They want you to go back? It sounds important.” He muttered. I nodded mutely; what was I supposed to say, I didn’t know what the letter said to him. Ellen’s panicked writing was seared into my brain and my heart wouldn’t stop thumping. “What? They want you back tonight!?” he cried. I gulped. “Well… I guess I shouldn’t argue with them… If they think you need to come back, it must be important to your education. But it’s summer.” He sighed. “Go and pack your stuff, we’ll go when your Mom gets home.”

I frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t want you to go…. But if this is gonna give you a good future, I guess I kind of _have to_ accept it…” It’ll give me a future full stop, not just a good one. Ellen’s explanation certainly suggested that if I didn’t get back to Iris _right now_ I could die… But I sensed a tingle of magic… The letter was charmed so he wouldn’t argue.

“Thanks Dad.” I said, hugging him as I grabbed my book and hurried to pack my things.

Thankfully, that didn’t take much. I hadn’t unpacked most of my stuff for school, because I didn’t need any of it. Besides, I didn’t want my parents finding my magic books. That would end badly; I’d lose my magic, most likely.

So by the time Mom got home from work, I was ready to leave… As I pulled on my coat and dragged my heavy bags out of my room, I heard my Dad explaining the situation to my Mom. Or at least he was explaining the situation as it was in their eyes. She accepted it readily. That hurt. I knew, of course, that it was because of the charm on the glamoured letter… but nobody wants to think their parents are okay with them going back to boarding school just halfway into the summer… It was barely the end of June, and already I was being summoned back to school.

But honestly, I wasn’t too bothered about that. I was a little more concerned with the fact that I was in danger, and hadn’t been given any indication how…

I said a quick goodbye to my Mom and then we left for Iris Academy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally gonna be a oneshot sort of short story thing... but now it's turning into a monstrous W.I.P.... Oops :/ So the smut doesn't come in for ages XD I'll let you know when it actually comes in... At this rate, I'll be able to actually post it on FF.net as well lol

When we arrived, I was surprised to see Hieronymous standing at the gates, stern as ever; actually, he looked even more serious than normal.

As we pulled my bags from the car, he walked over to us.

“Ah, Mister Farrell.” His British accent cut through the tension, and somehow I was put slightly at ease by his voice. He extended a hand towards my Father. “Professor Hieronymous Grabiner.”

As my Father took his hand in a firm handshake, I tried to hide the blush that rose in my cheeks. My husband was shaking hands with my Father; who didn’t even know!

“A pleasure, Professor. I must say, your letter was quite a shock.”

“I hope you can forgive the short notice. Professor Potsdam is prone to these whims and fancies, but I assure you it is a great opportunity. Arianna is a talented student, and this will most certainly help her reach her potential.” _Yeah, by keeping my alive…_ I thought. But my Father grinned.

“She’s always been smart! I’ll help you take your bags in, shall I, sweetie?”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr Farrell.” Hieronymous smiled, which was actually more unnerving than his scowl; to me anyway. But to my Dad, it was apparently very soothing… I sighed; more magic I bet.

“Great! Well, I guess I’ll get going.” He said, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. I saw Hieronymous flinch as my back clicked under the pressure of the hug. I grimaced, wrapping my arms around my Dad, gingerly. “Write us, alright?”

“Yeah, I will…” I said weakly, and coughed a little when he let go. But I smiled at him. “See you soon… Love you.” And he was gone… I suddenly found myself fighting tears. I hadn’t expected to be saying goodbye again so soon. I hurriedly wiped my eyes as I turned towards the school, grabbing my biggest suitcase. Hieronymous was silent as he took the smaller bags. When we were in the courtyard of the school, I turned to look at him. “So, what’s going on?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Miss Middleton refused to tell me without you being present.” He said, with a hint of indignation. I froze in place. After a moment he turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised.

“That means it’s to do with both of us?” I managed to squeak. His expression smoothed, his mouth set in a hard line.

“It would appear so, yes.”

I gulped.

When we reached the dorm room, and opened the door, I was suddenly set upon by another monster-hugger. Ellen clung to me as though I might slip away any minute.

“Woah, Ellen… Hey…” I choked. She let go. “You gonna tell us what’s going on?” I asked. She sniffled, tears rolling down her face.

“I’m so glad to see you!” she wailed. I patted her awkwardly on the shoulder as she cried. If I’d looked at Hieronymous then, I was sure I would have seen him roll his eyes. While she calmed down, Hieronymous and I set my things in the room. I then sat on my bed and Hieronymous leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded, while Ellen tried to calm her erratic breathing, furiously wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her grey cardigan.

Finally, she was calm enough to go and see Professor Potsdam, and as we walked my heart began to constrict in my chest, worry nagging at my mind. What had got Ellen so worked up? Her letter had said I was in danger, but that was all she’d said… She’d given me no details what-so-ever, and now I was panicking.

She was carrying a heavy looking book with her, clutched to her chest like a life-line, and yet I had a sinking feeling it was the reason I was back so soon.

As we entered Potsdam’s office, her cheery demeanour did nothing to help my nerves. Did she know what was wrong? Judging by the look on Ellen’s face… she didn’t. It didn’t look like Ellen had told anyone, because she was fit to burst, desperate to tell someone the vital piece of information that possibly held my life in the balance…

We each took a seat.

“Hello, my dears. Arianna, I hope you had a pleasant trip.” I nodded quickly, and her smile spread into a grin. “Wonderful! Now, Ellen, dearest… You wanted to talk to all three of us, yes?”

I was not the only one to look at Ellen then. Hieronymous and Potsdam both focussed their gazes on her, and she fidgeted awkwardly in her seat, at last loosening her grip on the book in order to place it in her lap. She didn’t look at any of us, biting her lip.

After a moment, Hieronymous began to grow impatient. “We don’t have all night, Miss Middleton.” He practically growled it, and even I shifted in my seat. He wasn’t even talking to me and I felt awkward. Ellen gulped.

“W-well I was reading up on Magical history and customs, you know… ahead of next term.” I smiled faintly. Trust Ellen to be reading up on something already. This provided me comfort, but it was short-lived. “Well, I found this book… and it’s about all the customs and rules of magic, laid down by the first council. You know, about maintaining the separation of Magic and Non-Magic… The rules about the Otherworld… And about vows.”

I stiffened. I heard Hieronymous suck in a breath behind me as Ellen continued.

“I checked and checked and everything in this book is still true… There’s no way to re-write them, or get around them… But they aren’t taught in detail because most follow them out of instinct…” she was rambling now. I expected Hieronymous to cut in, but instead it was Professor Potsdam.

“And what have you found that is so concerning, sunshine?” she asked, as though she wasn’t worried at all. Ellen started, and suddenly began leafing through the book, turning pages furiously as she tried to find what she was looking for.

“Oh! H-here it is!” she sounded extremely worried, petrified even, and she spared a glance up at me. I willed her to go on, I couldn’t take this much more. “Um…” she cleared her throat. “It’s mostly technical jargon, except this bit: ‘Should a marriage containing one or more magical beings not be…’” she gulped, and had to start again, reading quicker. “’Should a marriage containing one or more magical beings not be consummated within six months of the exchange of vows, the marriage will be considered void, and the vows accordingly broken.’” She refused to look at any of us, and I couldn’t blame her. I was staring at her as if she’d just sprouted tentacles out of her head, and I dared not think how Hieronymous looked at her. But I wasn’t left to wonder at his reaction for long…

“WHAT!?” he bellowed, and I felt a bluster of wind come from behind me as he stood swiftly from his chair. I flinched. It was an automatic reaction since the news of our marriage had made it around the school, and I had seen his full-fledged anger.

I cast a desperate look to Professor Potsdam, who was infuriatingly calm.

“Oh dear, this is a conundrum.” She chirped.

“I-I was worried, cause I didn’t know when the six months would be up and Arianna told me and Virginia about the Manus and how breaking the vow would mean she’d die and the Professor would lose his magic, and I panicked and please please PLEASE tell me I’ve just made a silly mistake!” Ellen babbled, bursting into confused and terrified tears. “Tell me I’ve got it wrong… Please.” Ellen never wanted to be wrong, in fact she despised it. It was her worst nightmare to be wrong… And here she was, begging that she would be.

The room was silent for a moment, save Ellen’s pitiful sobs. They weren’t pitiful in the sense that I took pity on her… They were pitiful in the sense that _she_ took pity on _me_. I gulped again, eyes pleading with Professor Potsdam that she might say something to calm us all down. But she just smiled, sickeningly sweet, at us.

“It’s true, dear. The old customs cannot be changed. I suppose it always does well to read the fine print!” the joy in her voice made me feel physically sick.

“Can you not be serious for a single moment, woman!?” he was yelling, but their conversation began to hum past my ears. _Six months… I have one month to live…_ I felt like I’d just been diagnosed with Cancer…

And there was only one cure.

I flushed about as red as a tomato, and before any of them could stop me, I bolted from the room. I didn’t know where I was going, I just kept running, and running, and running.

I didn’t know how long I’d been going, but finally, I collapsed against the wall in exhaustion, trying and failing to hold back the tears.

I was shaking, and sobbing and god I felt sick…

I was going to die.

I was going to die, and the Professor was going to lose his magic and it was _all my fault_.

All because I had to be heroic, and stupid, and I had to try and save him. All because of one moment of panic… Now my miserable life would finally be over. He’d be rid of me… but he wouldn’t even be able to remember why he’d be so relieved. Because he’d lose his magic, and his memories… He’d be alone, forever.

_AND IT WAS ALL MY FAULT!_

I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, and I cried.

I don’t know when, but at some point, I cried myself to sleep, because I later woke up to a bright, streaming light hitting my eye-lids.


	3. Chapter 3

I carefully opened my eyes, and it was morning… I had no idea what the time was, but it was clearly very early; the sun was still rising.

I went to rub my eyes. They were crusted over with sleep and dried tears, and when I’d cleared all of that away, they felt raw. I took a shaky breath, and hauled myself up off the ground, surveying my surroundings.

I was in the teaching block, of that I was certain. Unfortunately, which _part_ of the teaching block was unclear to me… Because I’d never been there before.

I knew the corridors of Iris Academy well enough to know I wasn’t near the normal magic classrooms…

I saw a door nearby. As it was still very early, I assumed it would be empty, and pushed the door open.

It was not empty. Not that it had people in… But there was a piano in the far corner. A closed, grand piano, with beautiful, intricate designs carved into its wooden casing. I made my way over to it slowly.

It had been years since I’d played the piano; I was ten when I gave up. It hadn’t come easily to me, and so I’d given up, as one often does in youth. As I suppose… I was doing now.

I sat down and ran my hands along the cool, dusty wood. It hadn’t been used in a long while. Carefully, I slid my fingers under the lid and lifted the cover from the keys. They were a slightly mottled bone colour, the colour one associates with classic piano keys. I let my hands drift across them for a moment, as if asking permission to play.

I didn’t exactly wait for an answer.

As I began to press the keys, I was glad to hear the piano was perfectly in tune, as if it had only just been done; despite the dust that suggested otherwise. At first, I didn’t play anything coherent, just pressing the keys in various combinations, experimenting with chords.

They were all minor.

At last, a strange, dissonant tune began to take form, with strained chords providing an undercurrent for the melancholy piece.

I weaved a tapestry in my mind, using the notes, the melody and the harmony. The music was tinged with regret, sorrow, shame and guilt.

Suddenly, I felt a presence enter the room behind me, and I froze, my hands still on the keys.

I turned to see Professor Potsdam standing in the doorway. She smiled at me. I suddenly felt very ill.

“Oh don’t stop on my account, my dear. That was quite a beautiful song. I’m sure your husband would be impressed.”

My husband… I paled, looking away from her with tears in my eyes. I heard footsteps coming towards me, and a hand rested on my shoulder.

“Come now, dear. It’s not so bad.”

I began to weep, feeling pathetic as my head fell into my hands. She squeezed my shoulder gently.

“I don’t even understand these customs…” I murmured through my tears.

“They are the ancient rules of magic. They are the reason the council exists. They are the rules the council implements; a natural order of sorts.” She explained calmly. “The ancient council used powerful spells to weave them into the natural fabric of the Earth. The council observes and distributes punishment.”

“But this rule…”

“I have already contacted the council.” She cut me off. “It is final. It cannot be changed.” She said gently.

“I… I am going to die…” I felt the despair in my voice, in my soul, and suddenly I was acutely aware of the blood running through my veins, as if I could savour each second I had left with it.

“Then, you would rather die?” My blood ran cold as I heard his voice. I dared not turn, but I couldn’t help myself. But when I did, he wasn’t there.

“Oh dear.” Professor Potsdam said. “You know it isn’t just your life on the line?”

“I know. It doesn’t change anything… does it?” she looked taken aback by my words.

“Don’t you care for him at all?” she asked, suddenly harsh. I frowned, moving away to look at her properly.

“What?”

“Do you really not care that he’ll lose his magic? His memories?”

“What!? Of _course_ I care! This is all _my_ fault! I’m such a burden on him, and now, because of me… He’ll lose everything…” I felt the tears begin to fall afresh, and suddenly her expression shifted. “I was a fool and now he’s paying the price…”

“Oh, little lamb… I think you misunderstand… I think you both do. Go and talk to him, Sunshine. You are husband and wife after all.”

“Not for much longer.” A wave of sadness crashed over me, and I began to sob. Professor Potsdam pulled me into a gentle hug, stroking my hair. After a while, I managed to dry my eyes and Professor Potsdam gave me a smile. For the first time since I’d returned to Iris Academy, it comforted me, and I smiled back, albeit weakly.

“Go and talk to him. You might be surprised.” And she hurried me out of the piano room and towards his quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

As I walked through the halls, my nerves began to mount. How on earth could I _possibly_ go and talk to him after last night’s revelation?

I covered my face in my hands, rubbing my eyes. I needed to get a grip. There was no point moping about it; I had to be positive.

How can you be positive when you’re dying…?

I was shocked from my reverie by a cry, and suddenly I was on the floor. I’d crashed into someone. This seemed to be a habit of mine.

Thankfully, it was only Ellen (the last two times, it had been Hieronymous…).

“Arianna! We were all looking for you!” she cried. “Eventually Potsdam just told me to go to bed… Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t really know.” I stuttered.

“They told me not to worry… That they’d sort it out.”

“Right. Yeah. It’ll be okay. You should go continue your research.” I forced a smile. There was absolutely no point in getting Ellen caught up in my miserable storm. She would be better off if she thought everything was fine. Thankfully, she bought the ruse.

“Okay, I’ll see you later then!” she hurried away, and I was once again alone with my thoughts. Those thoughts included _oh god why is this happening everything was fine why did something have to go wrong?_ And of course _This is all my fault…_ That one repeated a lot.

After what felt like years, I was stood before his door, feeling sick to my stomach in a way that only nerves can explain. I was terrified. I wanted to believe he wouldn’t jump to conclusions and shout at me again… But I knew it was a foolish hope.

I raised my hand and knocked  on the door.

After a moment, I repeated the motion.

_Maybe he’s not in…_ I began to turn to go. _NO._ I grounded myself, rooting myself firmly in place. _He probably is in there. In fact he’s almost CERTAINLY in there. Now TALK._

“H-Hieronymous?” I called timidly. So much for talking… I was whimpering.

The door opened to reveal my husband, stern and clearly angry.

“What do you want?” he snapped, and I flinched, looking down.

“To talk.” I said quietly. “We haven’t had a chance to-”

“You already made your opinions on the subject quite clear, _Ms Farrell_.” That stung. He only called me that when he was _really_ pissed off at me. I took a deep breath.

“No. You’ve made an observation, and jumped to a conclusion, AGAIN. I don’t know what that conclusion is, but I think we need to talk, and it’s not Farrell, it’s Grabiner!” I yelled without looking at him, which probably detracted from the effect. Nonetheless, I heard him sigh in resignation, and saw the shadow before me move, allowing me to enter his room… His… room.

I flushed and practically stomped inside, before he slammed the door.

He gestured to his desk chair. “Sit.” It was an invitation, rather than an order. But it was a harsh one. I sat. I struggled for an entry into a conversation about the problem.

“So… this… situation-” I was put out of my misery, as he cut me off.

“Could have been avoided entirely if you had even the slightly amount of common sense in your mind. As it is, you do not. And so, here we stand-” The temptation to point out that I was not, in point of fact, standing was nearly overpowering, but I resisted… “-facing six months of wasted time.” I looked down. “As I said, you made yourself quite clear on the matter and-” this time _I_ cut _him_ off.

“In what way did I make myself clear? What do you think my view on this is? Because I have a feeling that, as usual, you’re going to be wrong in your assumption.” I flushed again, wishing I’d said that in a more diplomatic manner. My husband was not the easiest to argue with, since anything you could say, he would have a counter. An angry one. But instead of yelling, he sighed, closing his eyes and sitting on his bed.

“I believe you made it clear that you had no intention of considering the idea, because you would rather die than face the ordeal; an understandable opinion.” My eyes widened, and I felt my jaw slacken slightly. I attempted to close it, but only succeeded in doing what I imagine was a pretty good impression of a fish.

He thought I was so horrified by the idea of having sex with him that I would rather die…?

“Um…”

“I am correct, no?”

“Uh… no.” I muttered, bluntly. “Honestly… that’s kind of what I thought _your_ opinion on the whole ordeal was…”

He stared at me now, stern but confused.

“What?”

“Uh… I assumed… From your outburst in Professor Potsdam’s office… That you were outraged by the idea, and it would be the final straw. I’ve already caused you so much trouble, I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to forget it all…”

He seemed lost for words, and the silence stretched between us, terrifying me. I willed myself to break the silence, but words refused to form. The same problem seemed to be occurring to him, until he raised his hand to his forehead, sucking in a shallow breath as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“It would seem we have, yet again, come to a misunderstanding, and I… again… owe you an apology.” He said. “This is becoming a habit.” He muttered, clearly irritated by the fact that he had now apologised to me more than five times, an all-time record. “So perhaps we should start at the beginning?”

I relaxed a little and smiled. “And talk like human beings for once, instead of stroppy teenagers?”

He chuckled. “Yes.”


	5. Chapter 5

I was sat at my husband’s desk, across from my husband, who was sat on his bed… About to discuss the fact that in one month, our marriage would become invalid unless it was consummated.

Basically, I was about to talk to my husband (who by the way is my _Professor_ ) about sex… I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my life.

“So, you understand the conditions that the old customs outline?” he asked me. He had his lecturer voice on… That _had_ to stop.

“Hieronymous, I thought we were going to talk like human beings?”

“I am.” He stated, not quite seeing my point.

“Okay. Can we talk as _husband and wife_ please? Not _teacher and pupil_? It makes the whole thing a lot less awkward.” I said, feeling the blush creeping into my cheeks. I didn’t meet his eye.

“Ah, of course.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was fidgeting. At least I could rest assured I wasn’t the only one feeling awkward. “So, I think it has been firmly established that there are only two options here… And although neither is ideal, one is certainly more undesirable than the other.” I cast a concerned glance up at him, and he continued, unflustered. “I of course refer to your untimely demise. I should also quite like to keep both my magic _and_ my memories.” I nodded in understanding, secretly relieved that the conversation hadn’t confirmed either of our fears.

I was glad, at least, that he had discarded his lecturing tone in favour of his more casual mode of conversation, not that it was much improved… But it made me at least feel partly welcome (even if I wasn’t).

“So…” I chimed in at last. “We both agree that neither of us want to die and/or lose our magic?”

“Agreed.”

And that’s when the uncomfortable silence settled over us. Because now, we had basically left ourselves one choice, and one choice only. Even though I was staring quite pointedly at my hands, I could have sworn I could see him blushing just as I was, although his still-slightly-stern expression made it less obvious. But then, I was used to his expression, so it didn’t really bother me.

What did bother me was the fact that now we had to move on to the _actual_ conversation. The bit that was going to be _extremely_ awkward.

“Um…” I tried to break the silence, and failed, only managing to blush an ever deeper shade of red than I had already been. I certainly clashed with his robes by now.

Finally, I managed to say something… Though it came out a little more clumsy than I planned. “Uh… It doesn’t break any state laws, does it?” I immediately wished I’d kept that sentence in my mind for a bit longer, so I could’ve phrased it better… But now, it was too late.  Thankfully for me, he was in his element talking about that sort of thing; laws and official stuff.

“I don’t believe so. Vermont state law dictates that it is acceptable if the persons involved are married and the act is consensual.” He stated, quite matter-of-factly. I nodded.

“Okay. It’s just… The law in New Hampshire’s a bit different, and that’s the only one I know.” I explained. “New Hampshire state law says that 16 is the age of consent, unless one partner is acting… um… I’ve forgotten the words, but they mean as a teacher or guardian… So-”

“The wording you are referring to is _‘in loco parentis’_. As I would…” he paused to cough. “…will be acting as your _husband_ , I doubt that rule stands. Besides, we are in _Vermont_ , not _New Hampshire_.” He emphasised.

“Okay, I was just… checking.” I felt extremely awkward now. It wasn’t that the thought was wholly unpleasant (contrary to his apparent belief)… Hieronymous was in fact quite attractive. My problem was not that… It was simply that I had not expected this _development_ and most certainly did not feel ready for it.

I didn’t realise how long the silence had stretched between us, until he spoke.

“We have at least two options.” He said, still matter-of-fact, but at least he wasn’t in lecture mode. I counted my blessings. If he had continued in lecture mode, I may have just reconsidered the choice we had.

Okay, no I wouldn’t… I’d prefer not to die, thanks.

I finally looked at him properly, hoping I was conveying my confusion at his statement. Hadn’t we just had that conversation?

“I don’t mean the choice of dying. I mean of how to… accomplish… the act.” I cringed. I’d thought it would be better if he avoided mentioning certain words, but now I was reconsidering; it was unnerving, and made me feel quite childish to be unable to even say the word without flailing uncontrollably.

“And those are?” I prompted.

Apparently, he had caught my cringe earlier, because now he spoke a little more frankly, even though he seemed uncomfortable with it. “We can simply do it, no questions asked, then continue with our lives pretending it hadn’t happened.” I gave him an incredulous look. “Yes, I doubt that would be possible for both of us… Which brings me to the next suggestion, possibly the easiest; well… for you.” I frowned.

“And that would be…?”

“The same as the first option, except your memory would then be altered.” I stiffened. “You would not remember the act, nor would you know that our marriage was ever in jeopardy. Eventually, you could forget the marriage ever happened, and continue with your life.”

“NO!” I cried immediately, and he looked a little shocked at my outburst. I flushed in anger and embarrassment as I stood abruptly. “I will not have my mind wiped! That’s basically what we’re trying to avoid, you know!”

“I believe it would be the best option.” He was infuriatingly calm

“I refuse! If I’m going to lose my virginity, I’d like to at least _remember_ that I have!” I yelled, before I could stop myself. Then, realising what I’d said, I flushed as my eyes widened, and I backed away a little. “That came out a bit… um…” I slumped in the chair, my anger subsiding, replaced by embarrassment. At least now my thoughts had been made clear. He closed his eyes at let out an exasperated sigh.

“I understand your line of thought, but wouldn’t it be easier if-”

“I said no…” I was more muted this time, not looking at him.

“I am sorry. I did not intend to upset you.”

“What’s the next option?” I mumbled.

“Sorry?” he hadn’t heard me… I repeated my question, louder. “Ah. Well… That would be…” He sighed. “We have a month, Arianna. That is time to get… accustomed to the idea. I think it would be appropriate to say that neither of us is ready to leap straight to it.” His grip tightened on the book he had in his lap; a life-line… I took a steadying breath.

“I certainly don’t _feel_ ready.” I muttered, more to myself than to him, but he heard me.

“Neither do I.” he admitted. I frowned, looking up at him again. “It may not surprise you to learn that I have never…” he did not finish the sentence.

Actually, that _did_ surprise me… He was attractive, and he had once been a student; a teenager with raging hormones and desires… And he’d had a girlfriend; Violet. I’d just sort of assumed that they’d- I’d clearly been wrong.

“What about-” I stopped myself by biting my lip before I let the name escape my lips. I had learned never to pry into the personal life of Hieronymous Grabiner; especially if you wanted him to even _remotely_ like you. “Sorry.” I said.

“Don’t apologise. Violet and I never… We were close, but shy in that… area.” I was quiet. He was revealing something deeply personal to me, and I didn’t want to upset him. “It seems ridiculous really; a thirty-one year old virgin. But that’s the truth of it.” His bluntness caught me off guard. However, I soon recovered, deciding to change the subject for both our sakes.

“So you’re thirty-one?” I asked lightly, a smile tugging at my lips. He looked up, shocked sufficiently out of his stupor, his usual expression returning as he nodded. “Oh you aren’t _that_ old. Here I was thinking you were a very young looking 50 year old, the way you always call yourself an old man!” His eyes widened. I grinned, and got a small smirk for my trouble. Suddenly, he looked at the clock on his desk behind me.

“I have a class. Perhaps we might continue this conversation at another time.” He stood, and I followed suit, following him to the door. “Perhaps come and see me tomorrow…” he suggested, as he locked the door behind him. His tone was soft, a tone that I was still getting used to.

“Alright.” I agreed, and for a moment, we looked at each other, before I blushed and hurried away with a quick “Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just saying... I looked up the state laws through Wikipedia... I'm from England so I don't really know/understand how state laws work so I'm sorry if I got it wrong, or anything else :/


	6. Chapter 6

Of course, when I got back to my room, Ellen was staring at me, expectant. I tried to avoid her gaze as I made my way to my bed, but she persisted. Finally, she must have felt like she’d worn me down sufficiently, and she spoke.

“You went to see him?” she asked, her voice breaking a little. She clearly wasn’t expecting it to, and she coughed to avoid a repeat. I nodded. “And…? They’ve sorted something out, right? You’re not going to die…” I sighed.

“Of course I’m not going to die.” I said, throwing her a wry smile to lighten the dark mood that was trying to settle on the room. “You can’t get rid of me that easy!” she laughed lightly, clearly relieved.

“Oh good! So what’s the plan? Appeal to the council? Is there a loophole we missed?”

I looked away, closing my eyes.

“Come on, it’s not top secret is it!?” she cried, and if I’d been looking, she’d probably have been waving her arms about exasperatedly. I smiled sadly.

“There’s no loop-hole, Ellen…” I whispered, feeling the blush rising to my cheeks again.

“W-what!?” she cried. “You…you mean…” I looked up to see she’d gone quite pale…

“We’ve got no choice.”

“But… But it’s illegal!” She was clearly grasping at straws. I shook my head, smiling sadly.

“No it isn’t.”

“But… He’s your teacher…”

“He’s my _husband_.” I corrected. I knew Ellen would react like this but there was nothing I could do… Ellen frowned.

“He’s like… 50!” she cried.

“Thirty one.” I retorted, crossing my arms. “Arguing isn’t going to change this, Ellen… It’s just going to make us fall out.”

“But you can’t… You can’t…”

“So you’d rather I die?” I could feel the tears welling in my eyes.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You were thinking it.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it, and that opened the flood-gates. I began to cry silently, and ran from the room, away from her burning gaze.

I didn’t try to find the piano room, however much I thought the music would help, because there were people in the corridors now, on their way to lessons that would save them from expulsion. I felt a few people’s shoulders as I ran through the corridors, tears dripping uncontrollably from my eyes.

Suddenly, I slammed into someone, and a steadying hand caught me before I could fall.

I looked up through my tears.

“H-hieronymous?” he was looking at me with a concerned frown.

“Arianna? What’s wrong? I thought we’d discussed-” But he stopped as I clutched fistfuls of his robes and began to sob into his chest. “What on earth is wrong?” he asked, baffled.

“E-ellen… She…” But I couldn’t really form a coherent sentence. He sighed, leading me into an empty classroom before wrapping his arms around my shaking shoulders.

“Shush… Crying won’t solve anything.” He said, resting a gentle hand on my hair. I let my arms wrap around his middle and cried and cried. He didn’t push me away, or say he had to go… He just held me there, and he was warm and kind and it felt like I was _home_. Not home as in my house with my parents… But home as in where I belonged. I belonged there… In his arms. It was a strange realisation.

Finally, I pulled away from his embrace to look at him, sniffing as I wiped my eyes.

“I take it Miss Middleton isn’t too happy with the arrangement?”

I nodded mutely, still trying to wipe away the tears. He sighed, handing me a handkerchief. I blew my nose.

“Th-thank you… I’m really sorry… I just… I was so upset… and I know you have a lesson, and I shouldn’t have just clung to you like that, but I didn’t know what else to do.” I stammered, struggling to breath. “I just didn’t expect her to be so argumentative, and it was like she’s rather I died, and-” I stopped babbling as he held a finger to my lips. I looked up at him again.

He was smiling. I frowned in confusion.

“You expected her to jump with joy at the thought?” he drawled sarcastically.

“No, of course not… but I…”

“Shush.” He pressed his finger against my lips again for emphasis. “I know. You thought she’d support you. And you wonder why I don’t have friends.” He muttered, looking away for a moment, before locking his gaze with mine.

I felt my heart thump a little louder in my chest. Looking at them now… His eyes were a beautiful colour; a rich reddish brown, like hot cocoa… Or chai… I blushed.

I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding and swallowed audibly. His finger was still on my lips, but he removed it to place his hand on my shoulder.

“Why don’t you come to the class? It would take your mind off it.” He suggested.

I nodded.

“Okay.” He smiled again. I gave him a watery smile back, and he led me from the room, his hand resting on my shoulder.

As we walked towards the Red Magic classroom, it occurred to me we shouldn’t arrive together.

“Uh… I should probably arrive a little after you.”

“Nonsense. The rumours have already spread, what’s the use trying to prevent them now?” he said, pushing me onwards. I looked at him, incredulous. “Don’t give me that look…” he muttered as we reached the classroom.

I entered the room, and found a seat. I didn’t have a notebook, and I wasn’t in uniform, and suddenly I felt about fifteen pairs of eyes on me as I took a seat in the back of the classroom. The whispers began, but Hieronymous swiftly silenced them, slamming his big red book on the desk at the front.

“Anyone who decides to comment will find themselves with Saturday detentions for the _entire_ holiday.” He threatened in his booming lecturing voice. I smiled faintly as the entire classroom lapsed into deathly silence. He was right in the end… The class did distract me.


	7. Chapter 7

As I stood to leave, I caught his eye, and instead of going to the door, I walked over to his desk.

“Thank you.” I said. He looked up at me, his scowl softening, and he smirked.

“Glad I could help.” I smiled and left, feeling a lot better.

As I walked through the halls, I spotted Ellen out the window. She was sat on a bench out in the courtyard, a book hugged close to her chest. It looked like she was crying.

I took a seat next to her, in silence. She looked up at me, not moving to wipe away her tears.

“A-Arianna…” she whispered. “I’m so sorry…” I smiled at her a little.

“I forgive you. I know it’s… a shock.”

“But I should be supporting you! You don’t have a choice in this… I shouldn’t make things even worse. I already did it once… I’m a terrible friend; I’m always letting you down.” She looked down, resting her book on her lap and spreading her hands over the surface of it. I sighed.

“I can’t expect you to just accept something like this right off the bat. To be fair… I thought he was just going to let me die at first…” I admitted sheepishly. She glanced at me.

“Really?”

“Well… yeah. In fairness, we both thought the other would be too horrified at the prospect to consider it. It’s funny really…” I explained. She grimaced.

“Well, it _is_ a horrifying idea.” I frowned, but sighed.

“Maybe to some.” And I left before she could reply.

Honestly, I wasn’t horrified… I was just scared. I knew full well I wasn’t ready for a sexual relationship, and here I was being forced by some weird magical law to skip a tonne of steps on the relationship ladder with my husband who I’d barely begun to get to know. But, being honest with myself, I wasn’t scared of him… If I was going to do this, I was glad it _was_ him. He was kind, despite his coarse nature, and he was responsible. He wouldn’t let me get hurt, and yet he was as inexperienced as me. It was comforting to know we wouldn’t rush things.

_He’s right, after all…_ I thought. _We have a whole month._

I ended up in the library for the remainder of the day, reading up on the spell he’d been teaching. It was a mid-level freshman spell; televoke, and required a good understanding of Red and Blue magic. My understanding of Blue magic was pretty good, but my Red lacked substantially. I’d been a bit fearful of the subject in the first instance; I wasn’t a violent person. Therefore, I hadn’t really studied it much until the end of the year… I felt a little foolish for it, but all I could do now was learn.

I didn’t notice the clock tick past lunch and on to dinner, until my stomach grumbled. I sighed, closing my book, and hurrying to the canteen.

I checked the book out, and spent my time after dinner in my room continuing to read it; suddenly fascinated by the control of energy. Thinking about it, I probably just wanted a way to take my mind of my conversations with Ellen.

I was asleep before she came back.

The next morning, I woke up at five o’clock… Saturday. I must have developed an automatic reflex over the year… I sighed, stretching. I might as well get up.

Out of pure habit, I ended up going to the accounting room. Hieronymous was there, sorting through the mail. I smiled.

“Isn’t that my job?” he looked up, a little startled.

“Arianna? What are you doing here? It’s summer, the mail is not your duty in the summer.”

“So it’s yours? Wasn’t the point of making me treasurer to mean you didn’t have to do it?” I teased. He scowled.

“Hardly.” He grumbled. I shrugged, beginning to sort the small pile of allowances.

“Can I help at least?” I don’t know why I was asking; I intended to help whether he wanted me to or not.

“Very well, it will certainly be done quicker between us.” He agreed. I ended up sorting the mail for the girls halls, and he sorted the boys. We had delivered everything by 5:30.

“You know, I doubt you need to get up as early during the summer…” I said as I met him in the courtyard when we were finished.

“I prefer having the extra time on my hands.” He explained. “It gives more time for independent study.”

“You mean your form of relaxation?” I jabbed. He smirked.

“Indeed.”

We walked together in silence, until I realised we had reached his room. I hadn’t actually been paying much attention to where we’d been walking, too busy enjoying his company, silent though it was.

“I suppose I should leave you to relax.” I said, making to turn and leave. He stopped me with a gentle touch to my shoulder. I turned to face him again.

“Don’t we have a conversation to finish?” he asked, seeming a little… nervous? He wasn’t looking at me, and if I concentrated I swore I could see the faint ghost of a blush on his pale cheeks. I smiled warmly at him, but I don’t think he saw it.

“Alright.” I replied, and he nodded, opening the door and holding it for me. My heart thumped. “It’s always so lovely when you’re a gentleman.” I teased. He coughed, following me in and closing the door.


	8. Chapter 8

I suddenly felt very conscious of my appearance… I’d only brushed my hair a little that morning, not thinking I’d be seen by anyone, and I hadn’t gone back. I was wearing a comfortable pair of baggy jeans, and a loose vest-top, a style I’d begun to favour at home as my _‘I don’t think I’m going to do much today’_ look. I fidgeted as I stood in his room. He indicated I could sit on the chair again, and I did so quickly, feeling a little relieved when I sat down, for some reason. He took his place on the bed again.

Suddenly, I had no idea what to say. We’d been on the subject of his age before he’d left for class… How were we supposed to _talk_ about this?

Thankfully, Hieronymous broke the silence before it became too awkward.

“So, we have a month to work this out.” He was quieter than normal, but he drew strength by clutching his book until his knuckles were white. I giggled quietly. He scowled at me. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at.” He growled. I didn’t flinch. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore after all. Instead, I let a pleasant smile settle on my face.

“I can tell you’re nervous, you’ll dent your book if you hold onto it any tighter.” I said and he looked down at his book, releasing his hand a little and massaging the spine. He didn’t look back up at me. “We don’t have to do anything much yet… But we should get used to one another.” I suggested, hoping he’d catch my meaning, although I doubted he would. My assumption was correct, because he looked up at me with an expression that he would often turn on unsuspecting students when he expected a more elaborate answer than the one they’d provided. I shifted under his gaze, again conscious of my appearance.

“I mean… Uh…” I stammered. The feeling of his eyes on me was disconcerting, and I suddenly felt quite foolish. “Well, we’ve kissed once… But…”

A look of understanding washed over his features, and he seemed to relax a little.

“Of course. That… That is a good place to start, I suppose.” He said. I smiled. “Come here then.” I felt a blush rise in my cheeks, but did not move. He rolled his eyes. “We will get nowhere if we both continue to be so shy. The month will be up before you know it if all you do is sit in my chair looking awkward.” He berated me. I nodded.

“Sorry.” I squeaked as I stood from the chair and made my way to sit beside him. Unfortunately it seemed he was unable to follow his own advice, and he was clutching the book again. I sighed, placing my hands on top of his. He looked at me suddenly, eyes wide, his eyebrows knitted. I smiled, carefully prying his fingers from the battered cover of his book, before removing the book from his grasp. “Stop abusing the poor book.” I scolded. “It’s done nothing to deserve it.” His expression relaxed as I turned to place the book behind me. When I turned back to him, we were very close, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks again.

I could feel his breath on my face… My heart rate refused to calm down. We were so close… Just a slight movement and-

And we were kissing. My eyes fluttered shut as I revelled in the feeling. It was gentle and polite, like the first time we’d kissed. A greeting rather than anything else. But I think he realised, like I did, that we needed to move forward, even if it was just an inch, or we’d get nowhere. His hand cupped my face, his long fingers threading through my slightly tangled hair, and his lips moved on mine, warm, but coarse from disuse. It didn’t faze me in the slightest. His hand slipped to rest on the back of my neck, pulling me forward to deepen the kiss.

I didn’t know if I should have put my hands in his hair, or on his arms, but I didn’t have time to think about it, because he pulled away, flushed a light shade of pink. I imagine I was no better off; in fact I was probably worse. I could feel the mad blush in my cheeks, and the stupid smile plastered on my face, which I couldn’t get rid of.

He coughed and looked away. I looked at my hands, still folded in my lap.

“Well…” he muttered.

“Well…” I repeated. “That was certainly different from the first time.” I knew my voice was quiet, but my mind was racing, so I couldn’t quite find the brain power to make it louder.

“My apologies.” He said. I looked up, incredulous.

“You’re apologising?” I asked, confused. He didn’t meet my eyes.

“I got a little… carried away.” He fidgeted.

“Oh.” I flushed. “I didn’t really notice. I guess I did too…” I said, honestly. Then he looked at me.

“I see.” He was obviously awkward. I stood.

“I suppose I should go…” I muttered. He seemed about to protest, then nodded as he tried to replace his stern expression. He seemed to be failing. “Shall I come and see you tomorrow?” I asked quietly.

“By all means.” He answered calmly. “Have a good day, Arianna.”

“You too, Hieronymous.” I said, smiling nervously before I left, blushing furiously. I practically ran back to my room, burying my face in my pillow. It was still early, and Ellen was asleep, so I kept myself quiet, though I wanted to squeal. I bundled up in the corner of my bed, and wrote a quick diary entry. My handwriting was messy as I tried to get everything down on the paper before me.

A few moments after I’d finished the entry, Ellen stirred.

“Morning.” I mumbled as she stumbled towards her closet to get changed.

“You’re already up?” she replied, a little confused. I smiled nervously.

“Well… I woke up at five and went to do the mail.”

“But… it’s summer.” Ellen was looking at me weirdly, like she expected me to say something else.

“That doesn’t stop me from helping…” I muttered.

“Helping _him_?” she was practically glaring at me. I growled, throwing my diary on my bed as I stood, my hands balled into fists.

“What is your _problem_!?” I yelled. “I’m not allowed to even talk to him!? He’s my husband!”  Who was she to tell me what I could and couldn’t do? Why was she ruining this…?

“Arianna, he’s your teacher!” she cried. “And I don’t think you should be anything other than his student!”

“Well I don’t have a choice! I have to be more than that now… Why do you insist on making me miserable about it!? If I have to be with him, can’t I be happy about it!? Is it so wrong to like him?”

Her eyes widened.

“You… You _want_ to do this?”

“No! Yes… I… I don’t know! But what I do know is that there is _no_ point being miserable about something that _has_ to happen! I have two choices… Be his wife, or die. There is no other solution, no loop-hole, no argument. I have to do this… And I had hoped that you’d be there to support me. But I see now that that’s never going to happen.”

“No, it isn’t… I can’t sit by while you do this. You shouldn’t have to. He should be trying to find a way out of it, not just going along with it! It… It’s like he…” she looked like she was going to vomit. “He wants this… Oh my god… You… He…”

I stared at her, horrified. She seriously thought he…

“Ellen, you think he _wanted_ this to happen!?” that was it… My vision blurred with red. I could handle her insulting me… But him? _No_.

“He’s a sick, twisted old man, of course he did!”

“You don’t know him! You don’t know _ANYTHING!_ ” I cried, hot tears spilling from my eyes. I snatched up my diary, and ran from the room, pushing her roughly aside in my desperation to get to the door.

I burst into Professor Potsdam’s office, and slammed the door shut, leaning against it as I cried. The headmistress was sat at her desk with a cup of tea, which she put down as she stood and walked over to me.

“Arianna, dear sapling… Whatever is the matter?”

“I… I want to move rooms…” I blubbered.

“Are you and Ellen not getting along, dear? I thought you were good friends…”

“She-she doesn’t understand… She… She thinks…” I disintegrated into sobs. “All we do is argue with each other… I can’t take it…” I could hardly breathe through the sobs. She sighed, smiling sadly at me, and placing a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s alright, I understand… I’m sure there’s somewhere you can go…” she turned to return to her desk with a flourish, producing a handkerchief, and handing it to me. I blew my nose violently. “That’s it, dear… take a seat, it’s okay.” She spoke, soothingly, as she sat behind her desk and flicked her hand in the air. A thick folder appeared in her hand, and she began to page through it, searching for something. I took a seat opposite her, wringing my hands.

“Hm… Do you get on with Minnie and Pastel?” she asked. I looked at my hands.

“I get on okay with Minnie… but Pastel…” I trailed off, and she seemed to understand. She went through several possibilities, through all three halls… Every name she came up with was the name of someone who had bullied me about the marriage, or was scared of me because of who I was married to. Even the Snakes, well-known for their oddity, would say I was a weirdo. I sighed.

“I’m afraid there’s nobody else, Starlet.” She said sadly, but then she beamed. “Why don’t you move in with Hieronymous?” she suggested cheerily, like it was the best idea ever. I started.

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea!” I stammered, thinking how my husband would react to it…

“Whatever are you talking about? It makes perfect sense! You’ll be sharing a bed eventually anyway!” My eyes widened and I blushed. Did she have to be so _blunt_ about it!? “Won’t it make it easier in the long-run?”

“I actually think he might kill me in my sleep…” I muttered sarcastically. She laughed.

“Oh, my dear, he’d never do that. Wait here.” She was out of the door before I could protest, and I shrank into my seat, covering my face with my hands. This would _not_ end well…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems Arianna just can't be happy for five minutes :/ I feel like a really mean writer for putting her through all this XD


	9. Chapter 9

When Hieronymous entered the office to see me sat in the chair, tear-stains all over my face, he frowned in concern.

“Arianna? Are you alright?” he was worried… He was really worried… I felt my heart jump, but I calmed it; Potsdam hadn’t told him yet… I wasn’t looking forward to that reaction. Suddenly, he was crouching before me, looking into my eyes. I leant away from him slightly. “What happened? Another argument?” he asked.

“Hieronymous, I know you’re worried, but do sit down.” Professor Potsdam chirped, smiling like she’d just watched a cheesy romantic movie… In fairness, that’s probably what she saw. He sighed and sat in the chair beside me, arms folded.

“Why did you bring me here then, woman, if not to comfort her?” he muttered, and I blushed, looking at my hands. She chuckled.

“You are correct, of course…” she spoke, ignoring his question. “She had an argument with Ellen, I assume from your question that it was not the first argument?”

I shook my head. “Third…” It came out as a whisper rather than a statement like I’d planned. He turned to me suddenly.

“When was the second?”

“After class yesterday…” I muttered.

“Anyway!” Potsdam interrupted, clapping her hands. “Arianna doesn’t want to live in the dorm room with Ellen anymore, and since we can’t find anyone else she could live with-”

“Why couldn’t you find anyone?” he asked, a little startled. I was the one to answer.

“Because everyone either thinks I’m weird, bullies me… or is scared of me.” I murmured. He gulped.

“I am sorry.” He said. “This is because of our arrangement.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“There’s nothing to be done about it, Hieronymous.” Potsdam said, snapping our attention back to her. “As I was saying… Since there’s nowhere else for her to go, I thought she could move into your rooms with you!”

I closed my eyes, prepared for the storm… It didn’t come quite as forcefully as I expected.

“What?” his voice was low, quiet… It was worse than his yelling… Far worse. He turned to glare at me, so I spoke quickly.

“This was _not_ my idea! I said you wouldn’t like it, but she wouldn’t listen!” I rambled, looking down at my hands.

“You are right. I _don’t_ like it. At all. No.” he had turned back to glare at Professor Potsdam again. Her smile did not falter, or fade.

“Oh Hieronymous… She has nowhere else to go.”

“I’m sure you can find a spare room somewhere!” he snapped, standing. I flinched in my seat, wishing the floor could swallow me up. “She cannot stay with me, woman… I refuse.”

“But won’t it make things easier, Hieronymous?” she asked.

“No, it will not! I refuse to have to see her every single day!”

My eyes widened as tears formed in them. He didn’t want anything to do with me… At all… He was just…

I felt a sickening sense of déjà vu as I ran from the room, trying not to sob. I vaguely heard someone call my name as the door slammed behind me, but I ignored it, running down the corridors in tears, ignoring the snide comments that were thrown at me as I sped past the few people in the hall.

Finally, I found my way to the piano room, and slammed the door shut, casting a quick and shaky ‘seal’ spell on it before I slumped to the floor, hugging my diary tightly to my chest, tears streaming uncontrollably.

It seemed I didn’t have a friend in the world. My husband hated me, my best friend refused to support me, and the rest of the school was either terrified of me, or else they thought I was a freak.

At first, I didn’t hear the knock at the door.

It was only when I heard a voice that I listened properly.

“Arianna?” it was Hieronymous… He sounded worried. Why was he worried, or was he lying? I didn’t know what to think anymore… “Arianna I know you’re in there. Let me in.” his tone was forceful, and so I pushed myself up, trying in vain to dry my eyes before I unsealed the door and opened it. I didn’t look at him. “Why do you insist on running away every time we are in that woman’s office? I know she’d irritating, but-” he trailed off. “What’s wrong?” he sounded impatient, he was clearly tired of my constant emotional fits.

I couldn’t exactly help it…

“Nothing is wrong…” I lied. He saw straight through it; I was crying after all.

“I’m no idiot, Arianna. What. Is. Wrong?” he repeated, slowly.

“Why do you care? You made it clear you want nothing to do with me… I know we aren’t a proper couple… but I thought-” I stopped, overcome by a wave of tears. I heard him sigh.

“Stupid girl.” He muttered, pulling me to him. My eyes widened. “We may not be a proper couple, but we’re on our way. I believe we are at least…” He explained. I frowned, pushing away from him.

“Then why did you say that? Why did you say…?” he looked puzzled, before a wave of understanding washed over his features.

“I… I worded that terribly.” He was suddenly awkward. “I did not mean- I am sorry… I simply don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I knew that already, without you saying you didn’t want to see me… I know I’m no wallflower, but I’ve always thought I was at least marginally attractive…” I didn’t know why I was admitting all this to him, but it was like when I’d said I regretted never being kissed… It just came out of my mouth. He looked at me as if I’d just spat on his robes.

“You… You think I meant you were… ugly?” He seemed incredulous, and suddenly he was laughing. I folded my arms.

“So now you’re laughing at me? Nice…”

“You are not ugly.” He said, bluntly, the smirk on his face the only indication he'd been laughing. “In fact, you are anything but… That is why I said what I did.”

Now it was my turn to scowl at him.

“What the hell? That makes no sense.” I was so confused and angry, I hadn’t notice that he’d complimented me… He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. He did not look at me when he spoke again.

“You recall this morning…?”

“It wasn’t that long ago.” I muttered.

“Have you forgotten what I said then?”

“Uh…”

He chuckled. “Case in point. I said I got carried away.” He reminded me, and I flushed. “I was concerned that that would occur again… If I had to wake up everyday with you beside me.”

My eyes widened, and I blushed, turning away.

“Oh.” I breathed.

“Exactly.” He was awkward again. “So now I have explained my outburst, you must stop crying. It seems all I see you do lately is cry. It doesn’t become you.”

I finally looked at him and smiled, wiping my eyes. He was blushing, a frown etched on his face, and he still wasn’t looking at me.

“I’m sorry. I just thought… I dunno, I thought you hated me. I thought I was alone.”

“Alone?”

“Well, I’ve barely got any friends after what happened… and now I’ve lost Ellen… I couldn’t handle losing you as well.” Again, I was unable to stop the words from spilling from my mouth, but he smirked.

“I am not so easily deterred; once someone has earned my friendship, it is difficult to lose.” He said.

“Just friendship?” I asked, emphasising the small amount of disappointment I felt. He flushed.

“Well…”

I smiled. “Just teasing… Your friendship means a lot.” I said, though I still felt a little sad.

“You were not teasing.” He stated, looking at me seriously. “And you are correct. Friendship is perhaps the wrong word. Although I can think of none other to describe our relationship at this moment in time.” I let out a small laugh.

“We’ve got time to work that one out.” He nodded. “There’s still a problem…”

“Hm?”

“Where am I gonna live?” I muttered, and he frowned.

“Yes, this is a conundrum we have yet to solve. Let us return to the headmistress, she may yet have a good idea.”


	10. Chapter 10

“There is no other solution, Hieronymous.” Professor Potsdam said, without a hint of remorse. The heat in my cheeks would not go away, even as he grumbled at her…

“Petunia, there has to be somewhere else she can stay.” In my head, I kept re-running our short conversation about the problem… And remembering what he’d said… And thus my blush would deepen, and the cycle went on. He wasn’t arguing about it because he hated me; it was arguing because he didn’t want to _get carried away_ …

“I don’t know what else to suggest, Hieronymous. She can’t stay with any of the other students, nor can she stay with the other teachers…”

“I… I’ll just go back to my room with Ellen…”

“No.” he growled. “I won’t see you crying all the time, which you will do if you stay there.”

“Then what do you suggest?” I snapped, hands on my hips. “I can hardly sleep in the piano room, can I?” a light came into his eyes, but I quickly extinguished it. “No! I can’t sleep in there. I’d rather be crying all the time than sleeping on a chair every night…” I explained, irritated. He sighed, removing his hat to run a hand through his hair.

“I don’t see why you’re so against the idea of having her in your rooms, Hieronymous.” Professor Potsdam chimed in again.

“I have my reasons…” Hieronymous grumbled, not looking at either of us. I sighed. We were getting nowhere. Suddenly, the headmistress turned serious.

“Then let’s hear these reasons.” She said, a sinister tone entering her voice that I had never heard before.

“Why should I explain myself to you?”

“Because one of my students, who happens to be your wife, has come to me seeking help. I have proposed a solution, and you refuse to cooperate, and thus will see her suffer because of it. Now tell me why you would let her suffer.” Her voice was dangerously low, and I backed away from her a little, her anger was clear. He folded his arms, like a stroppy teenager. I stifled the laugh that rose in my throat.

“No.”

She flicked her hand towards him angrily, and I felt a pulse of magic in the room… _Empathy!_ I realised.

“Petunia, you cannot-”

“Hush!” she cried, before shifting her attention to reading his emotions. Her face softened again, and a smile lit up her face. “Oh dear me, Hieronymous. You’re being so silly!” she laughed. “It’s settled. She will stay with you.” He started.

“But-”

“No buts, your feelings on the matter have only solidified my resolve! She will be safe in your care, and I think she will be happier as well.”

“Petunia-”

“And I think you will too.”

He grumbled something under his breath, and I shifted awkwardly.

“If he doesn’t want me to-” I started, but she held up a hand to silence me.

“Don’t worry, dear. Of course he wants you to stay with him.” He glared at her. “He’s just tentative about it. Go and help your wife gather her things, Hieronymous.” She commanded, and it struck me then that she had probably become very much like an adoptive mother to him when he’d left England. I would have smiled, if I wasn’t in shock over what had just happened.

He continued to grumble to himself as we left her office and walked through the halls together. I tightened my grip on the little book in my arms, as though it would give me some measure of strength.

“If… If you want, I’ll just stay in my dorm-room. She doesn’t have to know.” I suggested quietly.

“She will know. She always knows.” He growled, and I couldn’t suppress the small giggle that burst from me. “What?” he snapped. I giggled again.

“You sound like a stroppy teenager.” I teased, and he raised an eyebrow at me. “You sound like you’re complaining about your Mom or something.” He grimaced.

“I might as well be… But she’s far worse.” I giggled again. “Stop laughing at me.” He mumbled.

“Sorry.” I said through another giggle.

The dorm room was empty when we arrived. Glancing at the clock I figured it probably wouldn’t be for long. I sighed, placing my diary on what would soon be my old bed.

“What is that book?” he asked. My eyes widened as he picked it up.

“D-don’t read it!” I cried, making to grab it from him. He held it above his head, out of my reach, and raised an eyebrow at me. “It’s my diary…” He smirked.

“Very well, I shall respect your privacy.” He placed it back on the bed. “I will gather your other books together.” And he began doing just that, pulling out the bag I’d brought them to school in originally.

I began to fold my clothes in silence, stuffing them into my suitcase. I waited until he wasn’t looking to move all my underwear… that was an awkward moment neither of us were willing to deal with yet.

Thankfully, all my things were packed before Ellen returned. I tore a page out of the back of my diary to scribble a quick note to her.

_Ellen,_

_I’m sorry to leave without saying goodbye… But I can’t stay here anymore. It’s clear you can’t understand, and all we’ll do is argue. I can’t handle that._

_I’ll miss you…_

I felt a couple of tears threaten to fall, but I managed to hold them back as I picked up my diary in one hand and my largest suitcase in the other. Hieronymous led the way in silence, and I was thankful that most people spent their Sundays out in the courtyard, because it meant the corridors were mostly empty. Those who saw us didn’t say anything, probably because of the thunderous look on my husband’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all enjoying the story, I know it's become a lot longer than I first planned but please bear with me, and please let me know what you think, positive or otherwise xxx


	11. Chapter 11

We piled my things against the wall in his room, and I sat down on the floor next to them awkwardly. He looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?” he asked, finally breaking the deafening silence.

“I don’t know what else to do…” I muttered in reply.

“This is your room as much as it is mine now…” he said, with a hint of awkwardness that I was becoming accustomed to. “You need not sit on the floor.” He continued sarcastically. I shrugged.

“What if I like sitting on the floor?” I joked.

“Nobody likes sitting on the floor.”

“Granted.” I conceded, pushing myself up to stand. I looked around, until I found a door. “That’s the bathroom, right?” I asked.

“Obviously.”

I held up my hands. “Just checking.”

I dug in my bag for a moment, until I felt my hairbrush. I had to struggle for a moment to retrieve it, and then I went into the bathroom.

It was simple enough; brown oak floorboards, white tiled walls and white porcelain sink, bath and toilet. There were two mirrors: a small, round one above the sink, and a wide rectangular one above the bath, which made the room look substantially bigger. I stood before the sink and examined myself.

My face was puffy and red, eyes raw from crying. My hair was matted and untended, sticking in too many directions, and clearly full of knots. I sighed, beginning the painful process of brushing it out. I heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“I didn’t close it.” I muttered.

“Better safe than sorry.” He replied. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? My hair is a shambles…” I grumbled, more to myself than to him. He left me to it.

After what felt like a lifetime, I had finally tamed my hair. It now fell mid-way down my back, straight but bouncy. I smiled faintly. My face was less red now as well, since I’d been there for so long.

I finally emerged from the bathroom to see my husband sat at his desk, reading. I peered at the title.

“Sherlock Holmes?” I asked.

“Yes. You mentioned it in one of your letters… I thought I should try it.”

“You’ve never read Sherlock Holmes before…?” I asked, incredulous. He peered at me over the book.

“Just because I’m English doesn’t mean I have read Sherlock Holmes.” He drawled sarcastically.

“I never said that. I was just surprised. You seemed like the type to have read it.” I shrugged. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“How so?”

“Uh… because you’re a bit like him. Sherlock Holmes, I mean.”

“I did realise you meant him. How am I like Sherlock Holmes?”

“You’re smart… Pretty tall… thin… Uh… You’ve got dark hair?” I sighed. “It sounds stupid, huh?”

“No, it’s an eloquent argument. Although, I fear I shall never live up to such standards.” He quirked a smile, and I smirked.

“I don’t think it’s humanly possible to actually do what he does.”

“Perhaps. Have you ever tried?”

“To deduce things? Oh, loads of times! Never really works… You’d probably have more luck.” I suggested, but he scoffed.

“I’m touched by your faith.” He said sarcastically, bookmarking the page he was on and closing the book.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll go take a walk or something…”

He looked grateful, but did not re-open the book. “You don’t have to. I can read with you here; I’m quite good at ignoring people.” I chuckled.

“It’s fine. Anyway, I still haven’t had breakfast.” I argued. He nodded.

“Very well. I shall see you later.”

“Uh… see ya.” I muttered, slipping out of the door.

The hall was relatively empty when I got there, and I ate my cereal sat at a corner table, alone. I wasn’t expecting company. In fact, I was quite glad to be alone. No awkward conversations, no arguments, no snide or sarcastic comments. It was nice to just sit quietly.

I sought out the piano room then, and spent most of my day in there, playing old songs from half-memory, making up the parts I didn’t know. I improvised, weaving odd little tunes that would have no place anywhere other than that room and my head. I played happy music, sad music… Regretful music and hopeful music.

I didn’t notice, at first, the presence that appeared in the doorway in the early evening. When I did notice, I played a finishing chord and turned slowly to see Hieronymous in the doorway. He smirked.

“Very good.” He said. My eyes widened.

“H-how long have you been there?” I asked, panicking a little. He shrugged.

“A while. Have you eaten?” he asked. I glanced at the clock in the room, then shook my head. “Come, they should still be serving.” He turned away with a quick incline of his head to indicate I should follow.

We walked together, blanketed by a comfortable silence. But when we entered the hall, I stiffened, seeing Ellen sat at a table with a girl I didn’t know. I gulped, but calmed a little when a warm hand rested on my shoulder. He guided me to sit at the same corner table I’d sat at that morning, and brought me a plate of lasagne. I gratefully dug in, trying to push thoughts of Ellen to the back of my mind.

Despite the distraction, I found tears stinging in my eyes…

I knew Ellen would move on quickly, she was friends with lots of people… And she’d have Virginia when Summer was over. I had a handful of people, and only two of them knew what was happening…

My parents knew nothing about my marriage, or the fact that within a month I would no longer be fit to wear a white dress at a wedding… If I ever got married again that is. Other than them, I only had Hieronymous and Professor Potsdam. Hieronymous was doing his best, but how was he to know how to comfort a hormonal teenage girl? And all Potsdam did was push me to him… She was no help.

I didn’t realise that the tears had begun to actually fall until I saw a pale hand reach forwards me offering a handkerchief. I looked up to see he looked irritated. I took the handkerchief and dabbed at my eyes.

“Th-thanks… I’m sorry…” I murmured.

“You have every right to be upset.” He stated. “Your life has been quite thoroughly uprooted as far as I can tell.”

I nodded. “Still… I’ve got to stop crying. It doesn’t solve anything, and I look damn ugly when I cry.” I tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a choked sob. He sighed, shaking his head.

“And yet there is little point holding back your emotions.” He said, although it sounded like he didn’t quite believe it. “One of Petunia’s favourite pieces of advice.” He clarified. “However, I hope you eventually become happier, otherwise you will be a misery to live with.” He grumbled, and I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. I smiled sheepishly.

“I’ll cheer up. Promise.” I said. I don’t know if I should have promised without knowing if I could keep it, but it seemed to satisfy him.

The walk back to his – our? – room was quiet in that awkward-but-not-awkward way. It felt comfortable enough, but both of us were probably thinking of the same thing…

The fact that we were going to be sharing a bed that night.

I’d slept in the same bed as friends before, when we’d have sleepovers and their parents would lay out the spare double mattress and we’d flip coins or play rock-paper-scissors to decide who got the single.

But I’d never shared a bed with a guy… Let alone my _husband_. I was terrified… And yet, I couldn’t get over the slight jump in my heart at the slight chance of seeing him sleeping; calm and peaceful and content…

We spent the evening sat in silence, each reading a different book. He was still reading Sherlock Holmes, which I found surprising; I always envisioned him as a pure non-fiction type of person. I favoured the book on red-magic I’d been reading before. Despite his earlier assertion that I could sit wherever, I sat on the floor beside my suitcase, leaning on the wall. There was only one chair, and I wasn’t about to sit on the bed.

Eventually, he closed his book, prompting me to look up. I was surprised to notice it was half past midnight… I blinked, closing my own book hesitantly. I was used to the 10:30 curfew, and lights out at eleven…

“Is this your normal routine?” I asked, pushing myself off the wall to rest on my knees. My bum felt very numb, how long had I been sat there?

“Yes… Although in future you are welcome to go to sleep before me.”

“I’d just lie awake for ages.” I replied with a shrug. He nodded, standing up and placing his book on the bedside table.

While he changed in the bathroom, I dug through my suitcase, searching for some pyjamas that wouldn’t look unbelievably childish.

But I soon realised it wasn’t ‘childish’ I had to worry about… Most of my pyjamas actually _weren’t_ childish. But there were plenty of strappy tops and short nightgowns… I flushed. That would not be a good first impression. I kept digging until I found a relatively safe pair; a baggy t-shirt and trousers combo. The top was an alarming shade of pink, and the trousers were horizontally striped with grey, making their own pink look slightly duller even though it was the same as the top. “Sleep Geek” was written in dark blue writing on the top and I grimaced. Perhaps those _were_ a bit childish… I slumped, not noticing he had left the bathroom.

“Arianna, why are you covering the floor with clothes…?” he asked, and I instinctively turned around to look at him.

I had to fight to not let my mouth fall open. Apparently, he didn’t wear a shirt to bed… Just a pair of flannel trousers that hung on his hips. Having never seen him without his thick school robes on, I found my gaze trailing over his chest and arms. He was slim, but he clearly had muscles… I felt myself gulp and quickly turned away. Suddenly, my selection didn’t seem so bad…

“I… I was trying to find the best sort of pyjamas to wear.” I muttered awkwardly. I imagine he raised an eyebrow, or rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t particularly care.” He muttered, and I heard him walking over to the bed. I quickly stuffed my various pyjamas back into the bag and snatched up the pink set, hurrying into the bathroom to change.

As I went through the ordinary motions, I stretched my arms behind my back automatically to unhook my bra, then paused, a bright blush colouring my cheeks. I normally couldn’t stand sleeping in my bra, but somehow I thought it would only make things more awkward if I took it off.

So I left it on, and left the bathroom, hugging my folded clothes to my chest before hurriedly stuffing them in my suitcase. Only then did I turn to look at the bed. He was sat on the right-hand sidewaiting to turn off the light. I scurried over to the other side of the bed, avoiding his gaze, and shuffled under the covers as he flicked the light off. I heard him shift down into the covers beside me, and gulped.

I laid on my side, facing away from him to avoid unnecessary awkwardness. It wasn’t completely pitch-black like I had expected. He hadn’t drawn the curtains, and the thin gauze that floated before the window did little to impede the moonlight. It was beautiful…

But that didn’t distract from the fact that I’d been right; my bra was unbelievably uncomfortable, and it stopped me sleeping. Although, thinking about it, perhaps it didn’t help that I dared not even move for fear of disturbing or annoying him.

I must have been lying there awake for a long while, because the moonlight faded and the sky began to lighten. But I did eventually fall into an uneasy sleep, soothed by the sound of his breathing.


	12. Chapter 12

I woke up slowly, enveloped in warmth. I could feel the sun on my back, and I was snuggled up against something.

_Wait, what?_

I forced my eyes open to see the pale skin of my husband’s neck… At some point in the night, I had ended up with my head on his shoulder and my arm draped across his chest. I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I realised he had one arm wrapped around my shoulders and the other propped up… A book in his hands.

He was awake.

I squirmed a little, looking up at his face. He looked at me, his mouth pressed in a hard line. But he didn’t look angry. Then again, you could never really tell with Hieronymous.

“Good morning.” He said, maintaining his serious expression. I blinked a few times and squirmed again, attempting to detach myself from him side.

“S-sorry… I didn’t realise I…” I babbled, removing my arm from his chest and looking away. He tightened his hold on my shoulder and I found myself stuck.

“It’s fine. Unless you would prefer to move?” He said, turning back to his book and loosening his arm again. Since he’d stopped me from moving before, I assumed he was perfectly happy with the situation, so I let my arm drape over his chest again, closing my eyes. His shoulder was surprisingly comfortable and I would have happily fallen back to sleep, if he hadn’t asked me an awkward question…

“Do you always sleep with your bra on?” My eyes flew open and I turned to stare at him. He hadn’t moved, and at first I wondered if I’d imagined it. That was not a question I had expected to come out of his mouth… I felt myself blush and a strange feeling settled in my stomach when he turned his head to me, a serious look on his face. “Yes, I did ask that. Forgive me, that was a little… forward.” He said. It was unnerving that his expression didn’t change; I’d have to get used to that…

“Uh… Well, I don’t usually…” I finally muttered into his shoulder. “It’s uncomfortable and stops me sleeping.” Before he could ask, I continued. “I just thought it might be awkward if I… I just thought…” I trailed off, cutting my losses as the words faltered in my mouth. I felt a chuckle rumble through him.

“Explain to me how it is any more awkward than the fact that you ended up straddling me like a giant teddy bear.” He said through the chuckle. I frowned. _Straddling?_

And suddenly I realised, with a mild amount of horror, that my leg was thrown over him, and I gulped as my eyes widened.

“Oh. My. God. I’m _so_ sorry.” I cried, removing my leg. He began to laugh. I scowled at him.

“I did not say it was a problem before, Arianna. Why would that have changed after _you_ realised the situation. I already knew you were hugging me. I could have pushed you away and woken you up. I did not. Does that not say something to you?”

I flushed. “Oh.”

He sighed. “Forgive me.” He moved his arm away from my shoulders and the air suddenly felt horribly cold. “I did say this would happen.” He closed his book, placing it back on the bedside table before moving to extract himself from my grasp. I don’t know what made me do it, but as he began to roll, lifting his back off the mattress, I slipped my other arm under his back in order to encircle him and pull him back onto the bed. He tensed, his eyes went wide and his arms hovered above his head as he turned to stare at me. “Arianna? What are you doing?”

“Uh… Hugging you?” I said, because surely it was obvious. I heard him gulp, before slowly he let his arm settle around my shoulders again. I felt his muscles relax beneath my arms and I smiled, nuzzling lightly into his neck as I closed my eyes.

After a little while, I noticed he had fallen asleep; his breathing went heavier and smoother and the final vestiges of tension left his body. I adjusted myself a little so I could look at his face in the bright light streaming through the window. The creases that often accompanied his frown were gone, and it made him look strangely beautiful… His dark hair framed his face, and splayed behind his head on the pillow. A single strand of it had settled in front of his eye, and I lifted my hand to brush it away, letting the back of my hand rest on his cheek for a moment, before I returned my palm to its place on his chest. His skin was soft, and I began to trace idle circles with my fingers over his ribs…

We laid like that for what felt like days, but in truth it was only about an hour until his eyes flickered open again. At first, when he looked at me, the crease did not reappear between his eyebrows. But then he frowned slightly.

“Did I fall asleep?” he asked, and I couldn’t suppress the small laugh that escaped my lips before I nodded.

“Only for a little while.” I assured him. He glanced at the clock, which I couldn’t really see because he was in the way.

“Nine o’clock. We should get up.” He said, and I released my hold on him in response, receiving a small smile for my trouble. I rolled out of the other side of the bed, and walked over to my suitcase, feeling surprisingly awake (then again I’d been awake for at least an hour and a half).

I could see a pattern forming already as Hieronymous went into the bathroom, and I began rooting through my suitcase for an outfit.

When we were both dressed and had had breakfast, we returned to the room and he immediately picked up his book and sat down to read. I put my hands on my hips and shook my head.

“Hieronymous, are you really going to read on such a beautiful day?” I put on my best ‘Potsdam’ impression, and it clearly worked, because he grimaced before looking at me.

“What do you propose I do instead?”

“We could spend the day together?” I suggested, suddenly nervous. “Couples usually do stuff like take walks together…” I trailed off, looking at my feet. I felt a little silly asking him to take a walk with me, especially considering who it was I was talking to… He was the type to stay inside and read. Then again, I would only go outside to read in the sun, so we weren’t so different.

I looked up as I heard the book being set down on the desk. He was walking towards me, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“You’d think you’d be less afraid of me by now…” he murmured, did he sound sad?

“I’m not afraid of you… I just feel silly suggesting it.”

“Why? You are correct, it is what couples do.” He paused, took a breath and turned to face me. “We are a couple now, after all.”

I found myself smiling, and he smiled back.

And so we spent the morning walking through the grounds of the Academy, talking about various things…

“So what’s your verdict on Sherlock Holmes?” I asked.

“It is interesting.” He replied simply. I huffed. Sometimes he was difficult to talk to.

“Which one are you reading?” I asked, although the answer was obvious... I didn’t really mind that I was putting all the effort into the conversation, so long as I was talking to him.

“The Sign Of Four.” He said. I frowned.

“Have you already read A Study In Scarlet then?”

“Hm?”

“That’s the first one.”

“Ah. I did not realise…” I chuckled and he threw me a scowl.

“Sorry… But you really are like him.” I teased. “Incredibly smart, but you miss some of the simplest things…” I clasped my hands together behind my back, swaying a little as I walked in the bright summer sun as I heard him huff.

“Everyone makes mistakes.” He retorted defensively.

“I know. I just never expected _you_ to.”

“I have made plenty of mistakes that you are well aware of.” He murmured, and I stopped walking to turn and stand in front of him, staring into his eyes. I did have to make a little effort to keep on topic instead of admiring the way the light reflected in them…

“Like experimenting with a dangerous creature of the Otherworld in the Accounting Room and ending up married to the idiotic heroine who bravely came to your rescue?” I teased, and he closed his eyes as he huffed out a laugh.

“Precisely.” He said, and we continued on our way.

At some point, I let my hand link with his. He didn’t say a word.


	13. Chapter 13

After lunch, he said he had work to do. I let him go; we had plenty of time to spend together, stopping him from working seemed silly even to me. So I went to the library and found a book on Magical Customs. I figured it was about time I acquainted myself with the world I had entered.

I took the book outside, sitting in the shade of a large oak tree to read. I’m sure it was normally a fascinating subject, but the book was written by someone who clearly had no concept of _interesting_ … It was dull and difficult to read, and I headed to dinner with a throbbing headache and a brain stuffed with information it couldn’t quite understand. On my way to the hall, I returned the book. I would have to find a less convoluted explanation if I hoped to comprehend it.

Once I’d eaten, I decided to return to the room… My room? His room? Ugh, my head hurt too much to think how I ought to label it.

I pushed the door open with one hand, the other being occupied rubbing my forehead in a vain attempt to rid myself of the headache.

Hieronymous was hunched over his desk, pouring over a stack of papers. He didn’t seem to register my presence until I crawled into bed and laid face-down on the pillow.

“Arianna? Are you alright?” he asked.

“Headache.” I murmured into the pillow, although I imagine it came out more as ‘hemamf’ or something similar. I was proved right a moment later.

“What?”

I lifted my head briefly from the pillow in order to repeat my complaint. I then let myself flop back on the cool material, relishing in the feeling against my poor head and the darkness rendered by my closed eyes. It didn’t help much, but what little it did do felt _wonderful_.

I assumed he would return straight to his work, but I realised I was wrong when I felt the bed shift beside me. I rolled my head to the side slightly and cracked open my left eye to look at him.

“Sit up.” He said gently. I obliged, in too much pain to question him. I looked at him wearily, and he patted the bed beside him. “Come here.” I shuffled over and leant against him as he draped his arm around my shoulders. His other hand came up to rest on my head and he began to murmur under his breath. I felt a wave of magic wash over me, and my headache lifted, though not completely. I felt myself sigh in relief. “Better?”

“Much…” I said.

“I may not be as adept as Petunia at Green Magic, but I am still skilled.”

“There’s probably nothing you can’t do.” I murmured, feeling drowsy. “Am I meant to feel sleepy?”

“The spell tends to have that effect… My apologies, I should have warned you.”

“No, no…” I hurried to assure him. “It’s… fine…” I yawned, nuzzling against him as my eyes slipped closed. He was so warm… But he pushed me away. I groaned in complaint, trying to pull him back, but he forced me to lay down.

“Sleep.” He commanded, before he left my side to return to his desk.

I was unconscious before I could argue.

When I woke up, I was glad to realise my eyes were not being assaulted by sunlight... Or any other kind of light actually. I yawned, forcing myself into a sitting position and rubbing my eyes. My headache was gone (thank god).

The room was pitch black, but I could hear heavy breathing. I looked to my right, and as my eyes adjusted the sleeping form of my husband appeared before me. I smiled. I realised a moment later that I was distinctly awake… And unlikely to get back to sleep.

If I’d been alone, I would have turned on the light and read… But as it was, I was sat beside my husband. So I laid back down and stared at the ceiling… Or at the wood that made the top of the four-poster bed at least.

I contemplated snuggling up to him… but then that felt awkward. Contrary to Potsdam’s theory, I think that being in the same bed as each other made the whole situation about ten times as awkward… Or at least it slowed down the process. Because now not only did we have to wrap our heads around the idea of being intimate, but we also had to learn how to live together.

If I got upset, I wouldn’t be able to run to my room and cry… Because _this_ was my room now. We wouldn’t be able to sleep away an argument and then work it out the next day, because I doubt I’d be able to sleep at all next to a fuming Hieronymous Grabiner. So we’d either have to sort it out then and there, or go a night without sleep. There was so much to consider now…

I suddenly noticed how incredibly uncomfortable I was – oh yeah – I was still in my jeans and t-shirt… and socks. Ugh.

I could deal with the jeans. I could deal with the t-shirt. I could even deal with the bra (well, kind of). But the socks? Nope! I never could stand sleeping with socks on. It traps all the heat inside and makes me uncomfortable. I sat back up and glanced at Hieronymous. He seemed to be sleeping heavily, but you never could tell… For all I knew he was a light sleeper. I didn’t even know what time it was.

Keeping my voice as low as possible, I cast light, and cupped the small ball of energy in my hands to prevent too much light escaping. All I needed was to see where I was walking. I crept to my suitcase and let the ball hover above it in front of me, so I blocked most of the light.

I was soon back in bed, and I extinguished the light, happy in the knowledge that I hadn’t woken Hieronymous, despite my stumble when I’d entered the bathroom to change.

I could vaguely feel warmth emanating from him, and it took all my willpower not to snuggle up to him.

But then, why fight it? We’d have to do much more than hug by the end of the month, so why not enjoy the fact that I actually have someone to snuggle up to at night?

Happy with my reasoning, I shuffled up to my husband, and let my hand rest on his chest. He was warm in a strangely pleasant way, despite the summer air, and I found myself drifting back to sleep far quicker than I’d imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the story :) Please do let me know if there are any mistakes et.c x I try to make sure there aren't any grammatical errors, et.c but I have no beta so yeah XD Also, I'm British so if I get anything wrong about American culture/laws, please tell me! I always find it odd that we expect people to Brit-pick, but nobody seems to expect the same the other way... So yeah, I hope I've not screwed anything up majorly :P  
> Thanks for reading xxx


	14. Chapter 14

I woke up suddenly when my pillow moved… Oh, wait… That was my husband. I opened my eyes blearily as he extracted himself from my arms, clearly trying not to wake me.

“Too late…” I murmured sleepily. “I’m awake.” He looked at me and huffed.

“My apologies.” He said. I shrugged, pushing myself into a sitting position in order to let him out of the bed easier. “You need not get up. It is early. I have a multitude of meetings as well as lessons today. I will, more than likely, be gone all day.” He explained. He was dressed and out the door five minutes later, and I found myself very awake.

I’d already slept for god knows how long… Why sleep more?

I found this to be a normal occurrence during the week. He left early in the morning, and didn’t return until eight at the earliest, and he would be tired…

I realised, sitting in the room reading a book on sophomore blue magic on Friday afternoon, that this meant weekends were our only real chance to advance towards saving us both… As the realisation hit that this meant we had a total of six days, I found myself unable to continue with my book. With a sigh, I put the book back on the shelf and went to the window.

There weren’t many people in the courtyard, but those that were seemed to mainly be sunbathing and/or reading. I could see Ellen sat on her own with a thick book… the same thick book in which she’d found the custom that had landed me in this room. I felt the lump rise in my throat and stepped away from the window, bringing my arms up to hug myself. It wasn’t cold today, and yet I felt like I needed a blanket… I felt cold and alone…

Suddenly, tears were dripping down my cheeks and I couldn’t hold back the sobs.

It wasn’t so much that I’d seen Ellen… It was the fact that seeing her had reminded me that, at that moment in time, I was very alone. Hieronymous had another string of meetings that afternoon and wouldn’t be back until about nine… At which point he would crawl into bed and be asleep before I could talk to him.

I didn’t hold it against him; he was a busy man, and honestly it was one of the brilliant things about him. He was focussed and driven, but that didn’t mean I didn’t miss him.

I knew, as well, that he probably wouldn’t understand if I said that to him. I had learned quickly in the early days of our marriage that my husband could easily be repelled by too much attention; mainly because he thought he was ruining my life. He wasn’t. In fact, other than my family, Hieronymous was the only person I had now and I didn’t mind that as much as he seemed to think I did.

I crawled into the bed, still crying. I breathed in the scent that clung to the sheets. It smelled like him, and that was unbelievably comforting to me.

I didn’t realise I’d fallen asleep until I was being shook awake. I rolled over to see Hieronymous stood beside the bed, one eyebrow raised.

“Have you been in bed all day?” he asked, incredulous. I frowned, pushing myself up.

“What time is it?”

“Only seven; I finished early.” He said.

“Oh it’s only been a few hours then.” I smiled at him. My sadness was completely gone. Whether it was because he was here, or because I’d slept, I couldn’t quite figure.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“Uh… not since lunch. I’ll go now.” I muttered, rolling out of the bed and snatching up my hair-brush as I went to the bathroom to brush my hair. “Eesh, that bed hates my hair.” I murmured to myself as I tried to pull the knots from the nest on my head.

I ended up with a plate of luke-warm spaghetti, which was unsurprisingly foul… I only ate about half of it, but I hadn’t been hugely hungry anyway.

When I returned, my husband was at his desk, scribbling away at what I could only assume were lesson plans. I sighed.

“Hieronymous, you’ve been working all day… Take a break.” I said as I walked over to him. He did not look up from his scribbling. In fact, I don’t think he even realised I was there until I placed my hands on his shoulders. “My god… you’re so tense.” I frowned.

“I finished early, therefore I have time to get these lesson plans done.”

“Hieronymous… You can do them some other time. You can’t keep working like this. You barely have any time to relax.”

“I don’t relax.”

“Yes you do. You read when you relax. You never read at the moment.” He paused to look at me, a strange expression on his face. “What? I do know you, you know…” I muttered. Then I gulped as I remembered the reason I’d stopped reading earlier. “Besides, have you forgotten we have a deadline?” His eyes widened. “You forgot, didn’t you?” I laughed lightly, and he looked away. “See? You’re working so hard you’re forgetting things! What’s the point of doing all this work if you lose your magic?” I continued, slightly irritated. I said the next sentence without thinking…“Or did you just _want_ to forget?” I stepped away from him, and covered my mouth. “I’m sorry… That was…” I stammered, feeling tears of guilt pricking in my eyes. Or was I crying because of the fact he’d forgotten _why_ I was here? I didn’t know anymore... He sighed, standing up and wrapping his arms around me.

“I’m sorry. I simply forgot that there was a reason that you moved into my rooms…” he said into my hair. “It’s all I was thinking about at first, but I suppose I got quite busy, and it slipped my mind. I didn’t mean to make you feel forgotten.”

I leaned against his chest as my tears evaporated.

“It’s okay… I’m being silly.”

“How so? You are correct. We have a deadline, and I forgot. That is dangerous. I would rather not lose my magic, and I don’t want you to die…” he murmured. “I suppose it’s because I have grown accustomed to our arrangement, I find I like having you by my side.” He was babbling a little, and I smiled, pushing away to look him in the eye.

“You must be really tired.” I teased. He frowned. “You just said you enjoy my company.” He visibly gulped as he pulled his arms away and folded them and I grinned at the blush that coloured his cheeks. “It’s okay, I enjoy your company too.” I said, reaching up to kiss him. As I was about to pull away, his arms encircled me again, pressing me against him and deepening the kiss. I let my arms reach up to wrap around his neck, entangling my fingers in his hair.

Distracted by our sudden connection, he forgot the chair behind him, and his legs buckled as he backed into it by accident, sending us both onto it; with me straddling him. We did not break the kiss. In fact, the force of the fall only deepened it, while also making me cry out slightly in shock, giving him sudden access to my mouth.

His tongue was warm as he explored my mouth with all the focus he dedicated to his work, and I felt myself melt a little into his embrace, countering his intrusion with my own. His fingers twisted themselves in my hair to pull me closer to him, if that was physically possible.

It was one of the most wonderful feelings, being so close to him, our tongues dancing in a far more pleasant way that our usual battles of wit. But, like all good things, it had to end.

We both pulled away at the same time, flushed and out of breath. He was staring at me as if I was some kind of wild animal, and I suspect I was staring at him in a similar fashion.

“I-”

“If you apologise for that I will kill you…” I said breathlessly.

“Bu-” I covered his mouth suddenly with my hand.

“Let me guess…” I cleared my throat, and put on my best British accent: _”I got carried away, I did not mean to be so forward.”_ He gulped and looked away, and I felt a smirk twist my mouth as I removed my hand. “Honestly, you think I mind? If I minded, wouldn’t I say something? If I minded, would I kiss back?” He opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again and sighed. “Exactly.”

“Why don’t you mind?” he asked suddenly, and I frowned.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Not to me.”

“Not doing great with this whole deduction thing…” I teased. “Is it so difficult to think that I might actually be attracted to you?”

He was silent for a moment.

“You know, I wasn’t lying before. When you said I’d go on to find my own ‘young love’… I was serious.” I shut my mouth before I could ramble away any chance of him opening up to me. I made to climb off him, but he held me in place.

“I should apologise again then.”

“No more apologising!” I cried exasperatedly.

“Alright, calm down.”

I folded my arms.

“Why were you apologising this time?” I huffed. He smiled.

“Because you were right. I found it extremely difficult to believe, despite your actions in the past. I had fooled myself into thinking all it was… was a way of building a resistance to me.”

I stared at him incredulously. He thought I was trying to build a resistance to him? _Seriously?!_

“You have a surprising lack of self-confidence.” I murmured. All he did was shrug. In response, I wrapped my arms around him again and pressed my lips to his cheek. “Promise you’ll stop apologising unless it’s _absolutely_ necessary?” I asked.

“Very well; although I may require help knowing when it _isn’t_ necessary.” He said. I nodded, before climbing off him and hurrying over to the bedside table and grabbing his Sherlock Holmes book, shoving it into his hands.

“Now relax! No more working tonight!” I insisted, and he rolled his eyes at me, though I saw a small smirk curl the corner of his mouth.

“Very well.” He flicked to his bookmark and began to read. I grinned and went to grab the book I’d been reading before my small break-down that afternoon.

I found myself unable to focus on the words.


	15. Chapter 15

I decided to go for a walk, hoping to dispel the searing heat that had entered my cheeks and refused to leave. As I walked, I tried to organise my thoughts.

_Three weeks left… Three weekends… Six days… That’s such a short amount of time._ I wrung my hands as I walked. _I don’t think we’ve made any real progress… Wait, what am I saying? That kiss was definitely progress! For God’s sake we basically just made out…_ It seemed this walk wasn’t doing what I had intended it to do…

I was thrown from my embarrassing train of thought by the sight of a familiar blonde walking towards me, her head down. I felt the lump rise in my throat as she came closer, and I stopped walking, frozen by fear and sorrow and…

“Arianna?” her head had raised, and now we were staring at each other. In her hands was clutched the book that had started it all… I gulped, feeling tears prick in my eyes as I backed away from her. I couldn’t possibly talk to her without bawling my eyes out. I ducked my head down and turned to hurry away. “Wait!” I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me around to face her again. “Arianna… I-” she paused to take a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” I blinked, staring at her, confused. She sighed, releasing my arm. I turned to face her properly. “I’ve been awful to you… You were put in a terrible position, and all I did was make things worse… I can’t begin to understand what you’re going through. I can’t pretend I approve, but I know you have no choice. And I shouldn’t have said he was sick… That was wrong of me. The Professor didn’t ask for this any more than you did. C-can you forgive me?”

“I… I don’t know, Ellen.” I stammered. My mouth felt dry, all the moisture sucked into the tears that burned my eyes. I looked down, unable to in her eyes. She gulped.

“Where are you staying now? You know, since you left the dorm room…” How had I known she would ask that? If I told her, I knew how she’d react… But a small part of me hoped… wished… maybe this time, she’d understand.

“I… I’m staying with him.” I said, refusing to look up at her. I didn’t need to, I could feel her reaction rolling off her in waves of negativity. I forced my head up. Her face was twisted in a mixture between a scowl and a frown, with just a hint of the expression you get when you’re about to vomit. She opened her mouth, and I raised my hand to stay the flow of bile that would inevitably follow. I suddenly felt empowered. The tears evaporated from my eyes, and I took a deep breath before eyeing her with venom. “Don’t say a word. You pushed me away. You pushed me out, made me feel alone. Who was I supposed to go to? My parents don’t know, after all, and Potsdam’s advice isn’t exactly great.” I muttered the last part. “I had hoped, once, that you might understand… That you’d stand by me. But all you do is argue and scowl and hate. I don’t need that. I can’t handle that. So until you can come to grips with this properly, and stop _that_ expression from crossing your face whenever I mention him… I don’t think we can be friends.” I finished. She was about to argue, but then she closed her eyes with a huff.

“Fine.” She muttered, not opening her eyes. Behind me I felt a familiar presence, and when she opened her eyes, they narrowed. I didn’t need to turn around to know that Hieronymous was stood behind me.

“Arianna?” his voice was stern, but I could hear the concern underlying it.

“I’m fine.” I said, turning away from Ellen and swallowing the lump threatening to rise in my throat as I hurried past him and down the corridor. I heard footsteps following after me. I couldn’t tell whose though…

It was only then that I began to wonder why Hieronymous had even showed up… He’d been reading when I left. My steps faltered. Was something wrong? I didn’t realise I’d stopped entirely until a familiar hand rested on my shoulder. I turned.

“Hieronymous?” I questioned. “I thought you were reading.” He shrugged.

“I finished the chapter and thought I’d take a walk.” He explained. I raised an eyebrow.

“That’s random.”

“How so?”

“Normally, you get engrossed in a book really easily.” I explained. “Like the time with the candles?” I reminded him. He sighed.

“You want the truth?” I gave him a look that was supposed to say _‘duh…’_ I don’t know if it meant that to him, but he still continued. “I’ve become accustomed to your presence when I read… It felt strange without you.” My eyes widened.

“Oh… Is the Ice King melting?”

“That phrase only works for women.” He muttered sarcastically, but I noticed the blush that tinged his cheeks and smiled.

“You do have long hair.” I winked. He scowled, but I could tell it was playful. “Okay, sorry.” I conceded. He turned serious again.

“What were you talking to Miss Middleton about?” he asked. I felt myself deflate as I remembered…

“It’s not important… Same as normal…” I murmured quietly, unwilling to discuss it.

“Ah.” He seemed to understand. We began to walk together in silence, and I soon felt better. Before I knew it, we were outside the piano room and I blinked as I looked at the door. I turned to look at him, hoping I conveyed my confusion. He smiled that tiny smile that barely even quirked the corner of his mouth, the kind that most only employed when they were trying not to laugh. For him, it was normal. “Music seems to cheer you up.” He explained. I smiled and pushed the door open. In the corner sat the piano, my new best friend. As I sat before it, I lifted the lid carefully and ran my hands over the keys.

I forgot that Hieronymous was there as I began to press the keys and the chords flowed from my fingers. Or perhaps I was simply comfortable with him being there… It had become normal for him, it was probably normal for me. Either way, I played as if I was alone, and lost myself in the music as the late evening sun disappeared and moonbeams cast themselves into the room. I didn’t need light, instead playing by instinct. There were a fair few bum notes and dissonant chords, but the music lifted my spirits nonetheless.

I hoped that this time they’d stay lifted. It seemed, to me at least, that whenever I was happy nowadays, something would come and knock me right back down… Usually Ellen. At the mere thought of her, my playing became harsher, more dissonant, and slightly angry. His hands rested on my shoulders and I stopped playing.

“You’re thinking of her. Stop.” He commanded softly. I curled my hands into fists and closed my eyes.

“She was supposed to be my friend… She…” I felt like I should have been crying, but I had no more tears to shed, and instead I huffed a sigh as his hands disappeared and he sat beside me. I leaned into him, closing my eyes.

“I know.” His arm draped around my shoulders and he rubbed gently up and down my arm. It wasn’t surprising to me anymore how wonderful it felt to be in his arms, to be beside him…

Eventually he began to move, pulling me with him. It was late; I didn’t know the time… But it was dark, and the halls were empty as he led me back to our room.

_Our_ room… It was our room… And I didn’t want that to change.


	16. Chapter 16

Once we were back in our room, he swiftly dismissed himself in order to take a shower, and I sat myself beside the window, looking out over the courtyard.

It was long past curfew, and the courtyard was therefore empty. I let my gaze carry up the buildings and rest on the dark sky. It was deep blue, smooth like velvet, with a few stars dusting its surface. I couldn’t make out any constellations, but it was a beautiful sight.

I didn’t realise how long I sat there just staring at the night, but suddenly the bathroom door opened, and I turned my head to see him coming out in his pyjama bottoms, rubbing his hair with a towel. I felt my breath hitch and looked away quickly, staring blankly out of the window at the dark courtyard. I heard (or didn’t hear?) the light ruffling of the towel stop and dared not turn around.

I was coming to terms with the fact that I was most definitely attracted to my husband, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing to suddenly be imagining running my hands along his chest… It didn’t make our situation any easier. If anything, it made it _more_ embarrassing and just a little awkward. I gulped, refusing to look at him.

I felt a gentle breeze waft through the room.

“You may use the bathroom now if you wish.” I gulped again. _My **God** his voice!_ Sometimes, I forgot how wonderful his voice was. Deep and refined… In all honesty, his voice really _was_ like butter; even if the letter hadn’t been for him, it didn’t mean it wasn’t at least a tiny bit true… “Arianna?”

I forced myself to look at him, smiling as I nodded quickly, before dashing past him to grab my pyjamas and hurry into the bathroom.

I probably left him a bit dazed.

The water was hot but not burning, so I didn’t need to adjust the temperature. Suddenly, I froze. He’d been stood here… _Naked_.

_What is **happening** to me!?_ My thoughts rang like bells in my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut as the water cascaded over my head and down my back, as if to wash away the thoughts. It didn’t work…

When I stepped out of the shower, the air was stuffy and full of steam. I dried myself quickly and pulled on my pyjamas before stepping out and breathing in the cool air of the bedroom with relief. I saw, from the corner of my head, Hieronymous lift his head from his book to throw me a curious look. I smiled sheepishly.

“Two showers worth of steam gets a bit suffocating.” I admitted with a breathless chuckle. He seemed to understand, and he returned to his book. I sighed quietly, running a hand through my wet hair. If I didn’t brush it soon it would dry wrong, and then it would just look terrible no matter what I did. I sighed and began the arduous task. When I was done, I paused for a moment.

If I tried using breeze to dry my hair like Hieronymous had, it could go very wrong _very_ easily… I didn’t have the level of control he did. But I couldn’t go to bed with my hair still wet. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room contemplating my options, until I heard a book close behind me. I spun to see him giving me a strange look.

“Why are you standing there?” he wondered, one eyebrow raised. I pointed at my hair mutely and he smirked. “Here.” Raising his hand, I felt a gust of wind circle around me, and when I felt my hair it was completely dry. I grinned.

“Thanks. Sorry for the trouble… I didn’t want to get the pillow wet. And I didn’t really want to risk destroying the room.” I muttered with a shrug, wandering over to my side of the bed and clambering in.

When did it become _my side_?

The light went out and I heard him shuffling down into the covers beside me. I gulped. I usually ended up, at some point in the night, snuggling up to him… A couple of nights, when he’d already fallen to sleep, I would consciously let my hand settle on his chest and rest my head on his shoulder. It always felt very natural, but tonight I stayed staring at the ceiling as the moon peeked out from behind a cloud to cast silvery light through the veiled curtain at the window.

After a moment of silence, I heard him turn his head as his hair shifted against the pillow. I turned to look at him and found myself unable to look away, however much I should have (because the heat rising in my cheeks was by no means a sign that I _should_ keep my gaze locked with his). Then, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Not going to use me as a pillow tonight?” he muttered sarcastically, although there was a hint of something else in his voice… Was that… disappointment?

“I… May I?” It slipped from my mouth before I could stop it, and I shut my mouth as quickly as I could, flushing. He only chuckled lightly.

“I’ve become quite accustomed to it, so yes.”

My eyes widened. _It’s okay?_ He had actually said it was okay for me to cuddle him _before_ I did, rather than as a way to stop me spluttering apologies in the morning… I smiled and shifted over to rest my head in its usual place, slowly letting my hand slide across his chest. I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders and I shuddered slightly when he began to trace patterns between my shoulder-blades. He hesitated.

“Don’t stop…” I pouted. “That felt nice.” I looked up at him just in time to see him smile and relax before he continued tracing the patterns. I fell asleep quickly after that.

When I woke up, he was reading. I smiled, nuzzling into him. He was playing with my hair absentmindedly and it felt wonderful. I closed my eyes again.

“Good morning.” He muttered. He didn’t stop pulling his hand through my hair gently, which made me smile contentedly.

“Morning.” I mumbled into his chest, ignoring the urge to kiss the warm skin beneath my lips. “Enjoying your book?”

“Yes, although I’m nearly finished.” He replied.

“You’ll have to read the first one in the series next then.” I teased, remembering the fact he had accidentally started with the second book. I imagined he would probably throw me a scowl of some degree, but I didn’t open my eyes to check; I was far too comfortable. I realised I’d probably been wrong, though, when a low chuckle rumbled through his chest, making my smile widen slightly.

After a short while, I heard the book close and looked up to see he was glancing at the clock.

“We should probably get up.” He announced and I pouted.

“But it’s Saturday!” I protested, even though I knew it was probably futile; this was Hieronymous Grabiner… Before I’d arrived, he had probably never even _heard_ of a lie-in. He shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“It’s nearly ten o’clock, Arianna. I think we’ve both slept quite enough.” My eyes widened. _Ten?_ “Come now, let go…” he coaxed, and I relented, pouting again. I waited until he’d got changed before I rolled out of the bed and trudged to get changed myself.

As I exited the bathroom, a thought occurred to me… “What about the mail?” I muttered, a little worried. He grimaced.

“Petunia arranged for someone else to sort it, because of our new arrangements.” He explained, a light blush dusting his pale cheeks. I laughed lightly.

“My, how thoughtful of her.” I murmured sarcastically, and it seemed to work, because he smirked at me.


	17. Chapter 17

After breakfast, I spent the remainder of my morning searching the shelves of the small library for the first Sherlock Holmes book, since Hieronymous didn’t actually own it, while he finished the one he was reading. It wasn’t a very big fiction section, but I skimmed over the titles multiple times, hoping I might have missed it on one of my earlier search attempts.

After my twentieth check, I gave up and slumped into a chair with a resigned sigh. If I’d brought _my_ copy, I could have lent it to him. As it was, I’d only brought the book I’d been reading; The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. It was the third book in the series, and the first I had read (so really I had no business teasing my husband about starting with the second book…) so I supposed that I could at least lend him it until he found a copy of A Study In Scarlet, but it was still irritating that said book wasn’t here.

I was stunned from my contemplations by a thud behind me; a book being returned. I turned around and smiled. Hieronymous was stood with his hand poised above the returns box.

“You finished it, then?” the sound of my voice seemed to startle him (did I really look so different from the back?), but a pleasant smile spread across his face as he turned to me.

“Indeed. Did you have any luck finding the first book?”

I slumped, feeling my face twist into some kind of scowl-pout hybrid. “No… Stupid library.” I mumbled, irritated. But before he could reply, I perked up. “But you can borrow my copy of The Adventures; it’s the next one. So long as you eventually read the first book, it doesn’t really matter, right?”

He stared at me for a moment, and I cocked my head in confusion. “I am quite certain I will get whiplash one day from your mood swings.” I rolled my eyes. “But you are right, I suppose.” I grinned. “Shall we go to lunch?” I glanced at the library clock. I’d been searching for nearly _two and a half hours!?_

“Woah, I didn’t realise I was searching for so long… Okay.” I said, pushing myself up from my chair and practically skipping over to him, linking my arm in his. He sighed, but did not remove himself from my grasp.

After lunch, I returned with him to our room, and began rooting through my things in search of the book. For some reason, I had abandoned it when it got packed… It didn’t really matter, I’d read the thing at least ten times, which was clear from the battered spine and worn cover. I removed the book-mark and passed it to him.

“You were in the middle of reading it?” he sounded confused as to why I would leave a book unfinished. I smiled.

“Number one: I’ve read it, like, a million times… Number two: it’s a collection of short stories, rather than one big one.” He nodded in understanding and placed it reverently on his bedside table.

“It probably won’t take me very long to read then.”

“Probably not.” I shrugged.

And suddenly the atmosphere grew awkward… We both realised something: we could _not_ keep putting this off… Because, of course, that’s what we were doing by talking about Sherlock Holmes. That was why I’d spent over two hours searching for a book in the smallest library in the world… That was why we talked and joked, it was why he worked and I read…

Because, in all honesty… Neither of us had actually come to terms with the situation properly.

And now it was staring us in the face.

I have to admit, it wasn’t the actual situation that made me freeze at that moment… It was the realisation that I didn’t mind it. It was the realisation that some part of me _wanted_ him… And that was quite terrifying.

It wasn’t terrifying because it was him… It was terrifying because this was the first time I’d ever _wanted_ anyone… The first time I’d imagined kissing someone (passionately at least, rather than a quick peck)… The first time I’d wanted to hold onto someone and never let go… The first time I’d imagined someone naked… The first time I’d imagined things I didn’t even fully understand.

Okay, I knew the _mechanics_ … But that was all it had been in those incredibly awkward lessons sat in a mixed class with the boys laughing and the girls flushing and hiding behind their books. Now, there were feelings and fantasies and… Oh god…

I dared not look at him, lest my face betray my thoughts, because all I could think was that I wanted to kiss him…

I didn’t notice that he’d walked over to me until I could see his feet in front of me. My eyes widened, and I automatically looked up, meeting his gaze with a blush. He raised an eyebrow.

“For a moment, I thought I’d upset you.” He muttered. I frowned.

“Huh?”

“Because you didn’t seem to want to look at me.” He clarified and my mouth seemed to go dry as heat flooded my cheeks

“N- no… You didn’t upset me. I just… Um…” I tried, I really did… But I couldn’t stop my gaze falling to his lips. I squeezed my eyes shut until I was looking down at our feet again.

“You are nervous.” It wasn’t a question. It seemed he had read my thoughts through my expression, and I mentally berated myself for being so readable. His hand came to rest under my chin and pulled my head up gently so we were face to face again. I gulped. “Did I not make it clear, a week ago, that we would get nowhere if we continued avoiding this?”

“Says you.” I muttered, raising an eyebrow at him. He sighed.

“I admit, I’ve not been much better. However, as you pointed out yesterday, we have a deadline… And it has come to my attention that an entire week has gone by in which we have made little progress towards accepting what must be done.” I cringed. His wording was no better… “That was… poorly worded.” _Well, at least you acknowledged it._ I thought wryly. “I simply mean that-” _Oh, do shut up._ I thought, placing my hand on his shoulders to pull myself up and crash our lips together. For a moment, I thought I might have stunned him into paralysis as he remained frozen, but then I felt his arms wrap around my waist so I was pulled onto the tips of my toes. One of his hands reached up to tangle in my hair as I threaded my fingers through his.

This time, I ran my tongue along his lower lip, asking permission, and he parting his lips slightly in response. Instead of plundering his mouth mercilessly, as he had mine, I tentatively explored his lips before our tongues began to dance again.

But the sensation was pushed to the back of my mind as I felt myself being pulled off the floor completely as he manoeuvred backwards to sit on the bed with me on his lap, one leg either side of him. Before I knew it, gravity (or Hieronymous, I don’t really know) pulled us down so he was lying on the bed and I was on top of him, pressed to him as we continued kissing.

We broke apart for air, and I placed my hands either side of his head to push myself up so I could smirk at him. He gave me the same look he’d given me the day before, as though I was some kind of wild animal, but I just kept smirking, because I’d successfully stopped him from talking, and now he couldn’t speak if he tried.

“Confident enough?” I teased and for a moment I thought he might push me off, or start apologising. But he just continued staring at me, a strange look in his eyes.

But then my confidence fled me, as the urge to kiss him returned. I couldn’t help but worry that he might get tired of me, or try to push me away, even though a part of me knew he wouldn’t. I didn’t want to push too much and have him pull away completely, leaving me to contemplate my fate.

Something in his eyes told me he was thinking the same thing…


	18. Chapter 18

It was as though we were having a conversation, albeit a silent one, simply by staring into each other’s eyes as he lay on the bed with me straddling him. A silent realisation that we both had the same fears… and that they were completely unfounded.

Because we also realised neither of us was doing this completely out of necessity anymore.

“Well…” he was the first to break the silence. “I believe that barrier has been thoroughly demolished…” I smirked, leaning down to kiss him again. As I pulled away, I glanced at his robes and rolled my eyes. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“You couldn’t have chosen more awkward clothing, could you?” I drawled sarcastically. “I mean, come on… Robes are, like, the most difficult thing to remove _on your own_ , let alone for someone else.” I winked, relishing the look of surprise on his face and the light blush on his cheeks as he realised what I was talking about.

“I will not apologise for my choice in clothing.” He muttered, pulling a light chuckle from my lips.

“You’re learning!” I teased, grinning. He rolled his eyes and I felt a sudden urge to kiss him again. But he beat me to it, pulling me down to join our lips with me flush against him again.

Eventually, we pulled apart and he sat up, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist just to stop myself falling backwards. I carefully unwound myself from around him to sit beside him on the bed, examining my fingernails awkwardly. _Why are you still awkward? Didn’t you kind of just resolve that?_

We may have resolved (silently, but really did it make any difference how?) that we each found the other attractive… But that didn’t mean it wasn’t awkward for two virgins (emphasis on that… _two virgins_ ) to imagine having sex, or any other form of sexual act… Even if we both wanted it.

I gulped. We _did_ both want it… Ellen had technically been right… But that didn’t mean she was right in her accusations. Neither of us had realised we felt like that _before_. We had never wanted this sudden pressure to do it or die.

I may not have asked for this… But did that mean I had to be upset about it? No. Was it bad that I wanted him? No… Was it bad that my mind was going crazy with fantasies? Not really…

What _was_ bad was that somehow, despite knowing our feelings and wanting it… Neither of us knew exactly how to initiate the next stage… We’d gone from a kiss of greeting to full on making out with relative ease… But, thinking about it, that wasn’t actually much progress… We hugged at night, but it was all still very innocent. We’d never _touched_ in that way.

One of us had to initiate some form of contact… I had a feeling he would prefer not to be the first to do so. After all, he probably had it in his head that he _shouldn’t_ be attracted to me. I, however, wasn’t ashamed of liking him. I wasn’t ashamed of imagining running my hands over his chest, down his stomach... Further and further down, hooking under his loose pyjama pants… I felt heat rise in my cheeks, pushing the images away so I could at least _try_ and think clearly. I didn’t quite know how he’d react if I were to initiate contact in such a way, but I couldn’t imagine it being good.

So the problem remained… How to break the next barrier?

I turned to him, smiling. “I’m gonna write a letter to my parents and ask them to send me the first book, okay?” I returned to our fail-safe topic of discussion and he smiled, clearly thankful to me for breaking the awkward silence I hadn’t noticed (having been quite absorbed in my thoughts).

“There is paper in the drop drawer of the desk.” He said, inclining his head towards the desk in the corner.  I nodded.

“Okay, thanks.” I hurried over to the desk, hearing the bed creak a little as he settled down to read the other book.

As I wrote, I found myself a little sad… I had to lie about what was happening to my parents again. I had to pretend everything was fine and my life didn’t hang in the balance. I couldn’t talk to anyone about what was happening…

And I couldn’t ask for anyone’s advice. This was something I had to work out on my own, because I couldn’t exactly ask my parents how to initiate sexual contact with my husband, nor was I willing to discuss the subject with _anyone_ for that matter. I sighed. For now, I’d just have to leave it, and hope something would come to me.

I pushed my completed letter into an envelope and sealed it before writing the address on the front and leaving it on the corner of the desk; I’d have to wait until Monday to send it.

When I looked at my husband I realised, with a smile, that he was completely engrossed in the book. I stood to skim the shelves of his personal library, settling on a book on blue magic. Perhaps it was because of the sheer lack of fiction in his personal library that had made me doubt whether he ever read it…

We passed the afternoon and evening in silence, both of us content to read in each other’s silent company. We only moved to go to dinner, and then returned to our books quite happily when we returned. It felt nice, but we were both back into familiar territory; avoiding the problem that we had yet to conquer.

He was the first to move, closing the book with a sense of formality that suggested he’d finished another story. He moved over to his wardrobe quietly, trying not to disturb my reading; though of course his movement had already done just that. I pretended it hadn’t until he was in the bathroom, at which point I bookmarked my spot with a sigh and returned the book to its place on the shelf before heading over to my suitcase.

As I sat before the case, he emerged, and I realised he’d changed into a different set of pyjamas (still topless though, which I admit I was glad of…)

I glanced at the pink top in my hands. I’d been wearing the same pyjamas for a week, my normal time before changing them… I sighed and pushed them to the side, rummaging around in the mess of clothing for a clean set.

“Hm…” I heard behind me. I turned to look at him, a questioning frown on my face. “You can’t keep living out of a suitcase…” he murmured thoughtfully. “Step back a moment.” I frowned in confusion, but obeyed, pushing myself off the floor and leaning against the bed-post, one eyebrow raised as he held his hand out towards my suitcase and began to chant the words to a complex spell I didn’t know. My eyes widened when my suitcase morphed into a wardrobe… A beautiful, dark-wood wardrobe with intricate patterns that swirled at the edges of the doors. He let his hand fall back to his side with a sigh. “Much better.” I looked at him, my mouth hanging open slightly, and he smirked. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“B-but… I want to be able to do that!” I cried, rushing over to the wardrobe and opening it. “And all my clothes are hung up!” I exclaimed as I observed the perfectly organised interior. He chuckled.

“Keep up the blue magic studies then.” He said nonchalantly. _Easy._ I thought in silent response as I rummaged through my pyjamas, which had been folded in one of the side compartments of the wardrobe.

Eventually, after a long mental debate, I pulled out a light blue nightdress which had white hems and a print of a crescent moon and stars on the front.

When I was changed though, I suddenly felt very nervous. It felt too short, even though it was at least half-way down my thighs, and even in the warm air, I felt a bit cold. I gulped as I forced my hand to push the door open, looking down as I went to hang my clothes up in my new wardrobe before I scurried over to climb into bed.

When the light didn’t switch off immediately, I looked over to see Hieronymous was staring at me, one eyebrow raised.

“W-what?” I stammered, and he frowned a little, though somehow still managing to keep one eyebrow raised.

“You’re acting the same way you did last week…”

Now it was my turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

“You’re nervous. Why?”

“Okay, have you been practising?”

“What?”

“That was a good deduction…” I mumbled, looking away. He sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t really know.” I shrugged. He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me. I sighed. “Don’t laugh?” he just stared at me and I sighed again. “I dunno, I was nervous about wearing this.” I gestured to the nightdress and I could see he was trying not to chuckle. “I know, I know… It’s stupid.”

“I can’t say I understand, but I wouldn’t say it was stupid.” He argued, giving me a small smile, which I returned awkwardly as he switched off the light and shuffled down into the covers. I rolled over to rest my head on his chest and he let his arm rest around my shoulders.

As I drifted to sleep, I felt a light kiss being pressed into my hair.


	19. Chapter 19

I realised as I opened my eyes that I’d woken before him for once, because he was not reading. In fact, he was lying on his side and had, at some point, slung his other arm over me so I was pulled up against him with my head rested on his upper arm. One of my arms was still draped over him, while the other was trapped between us and felt cramped, since it was bent up so my palm was against his chest. I wanted to move my arm, but I didn’t want to disturb him… _How the hell do I do that?_ I thought, irritated.

I wriggled a little so there was a small space between us, and though I missed the warmth it freed my arm enough to push it up through the gap and over my head, where I let it rest for a moment before letting my fingers comb through his hair gently as I pressed up against him again.

That was when I realised that pulling my arm up had caused my nightdress to slide up slightly to leave my stomach uncovered. I flushed at the feeling of his skin on mine and his pyjama pants against my legs. Ignoring the heat that flooded my body, I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his chest, letting my arm hook around his bare shoulder.

A few minutes later, he stirred, moving his leg slightly so the soft material brushed across my leg. I gulped, but smiled.

“Good morning.” I mumbled into his chest before I looked up at him. He blinked at me a couple of times, bringing his hand up to rub his eye.

“Good morning…” His voice was lower than normal, rough from sleep… And it was _incredibly_ attractive, as evidenced by the heat that rose in my cheeks “It appears that, this time, I was the one to move in my sleep.” I smiled.

“I don’t mind.” To emphasise my point, I nuzzled at his neck, and I smirked when his breath hitched as my lips brushed against his skin. I fought the urge to press a deliberate kiss to the soft skin beneath his ear with some difficulty. I smiled though, as his arms wrapped a little tighter around me and he rested his chin on the top of my head.

“When did this become normal?” he mused and I couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled from my lips.

“I think it became normal that first morning when you woke up to find me behaving like a koala…” I muttered against his skin to which he shuddered.

“Right…” his voice was softer than normal, and this time I couldn’t resist pressing my lips to the heated skin of his neck, which drew a shaky breath from his lips.

For a while we stayed there, both of us quite content in the warm embrace of the other. Unfortunately, my husband was the type to get restless if he stayed in bed for too long in the morning, and he began to move. I couldn’t help the groan of complaint as he pulled his neck away, twisting towards the clock.

However, as his hands dragged across my back he paused. It took me a moment to realise why… His hand was resting on my waist… And my nightgown had ridden up to expose my waist when I’d moved my arm. I gulped, my mouth suddenly very dry as he stayed frozen, save for his eyes sliding shut as he drew in a shaky breath. After a moment, his eyes opened again but as he was about to move my hand shot down to cover his, holding it in place. Finally, he turned back to me, his lips slightly parted, and a slight frown on his face.

“Problem?” I asked quietly. He gulped, holding my gaze. _God his eyes are amazing…_ I couldn’t help thinking. A look passed over his face that I couldn’t quite comprehend. I frowned. “Hieronymous? What’s wrong?” He just stared at me. “Hierony-” I was cut off as he bent to press our lips together, pushing the hand that was underneath me up into my hair to deepen the kiss. Due to the fact that I’d been in the middle of speaking, my mouth was open, and he took full advantage of the fact.

_I guess I finally know what he really meant by getting carried away…_ I thought, knowing that if my mouth hadn’t been otherwise occupied, I’d have been smirking. Somehow, I managed to pull myself even closer to him as I slid my hand up his arm to lay my palm flat on his back and he slid his up under the crumpled material of my nightdress to do the same. It felt glorious to be so close to him, to have his hands on my skin and feel his lips moving against mine, warm and wet, an untamed version of him only _I_ got to see.

When we pulled back, neither of us moved our hands as we took a few shaky breaths. I smiled at him, but he only looked sheepish…

“Don’t you dare start going on about getting carried away; that was hardly any different from yesterday.” I complained, my smile morphing into a smirk at the slightly shocked expression that crossed his face. “You’ve got to stop feeling guilty about this… I thought we’d sorted that.” I muttered. Then, swallowing my nerves, I continued: “Or do you need more confirmation?” I let a teasing tone enter my voice and his eyes widened. I raised an eyebrow, keeping my teasing smirk in place. “Well?”

He gulped before his tongue darted out to wet his lips, which I don’t think he realised he did. I felt the corner of my mouth drag upwards a touch as I slid my hand back down his arm, pulling it across my back and back onto my waist before pushing it up towards my breast. I let his hand rest just beneath it; I was hardly going to force him. I let my other hand card absently through his hair as I stared into his eyes, desperate for him to make the final leap, but unwilling to push him.

It felt like an age that we laid there, eyes locked in a silent conversation, something I noticed was becoming a regular thing for us.

I was trying to convey a mixture of trust and want, although I couldn’t actually tell if that’s what was coming across. As for him, I’m not sure what he was trying to get across, but all I could see in his eyes was this strange sort of fear, like he was scared of rejection, or perhaps that I might disappear into thin air. I suppose I could hardly blame him.

I played lightly with his hair, and let a small, reassuring smile curl my lips.

“I… I can’t…” he whispered, though I could hear his resolve weakening.

“Why?” I asked, keeping my expression and voice soft. “You said yourself there’s nothing illegal about it.” His face said that wasn’t the problem. “Are you scared?” A part of me was terrified that I was pushing too much, prying into his thoughts as I was. But he let out a breath neither of us had realised he was holding and closed his eyes. “What of?” I asked, colouring my voice with surprise. I could see he wasn’t going to tell me, so I decided to make an educated guess… “Are you scared I’ll reject you? That I’ll suddenly decide that it _is_ a horrible concept? Because you know, that’s not going to happen…” He remained silent, eyes closed and I sighed. “I’m not going to lie… I’m scared too… Probably more… But we can’t afford to think like that.” I explained, and his eyes opened slowly to stare into mine.

“I am sorry.” He said quietly, pulling his hand from mine, and I pouted.

“I thought we’d agreed, no more apologising.”

“But-” I covered his mouth with my hand.

“Hieronymous. I understand, really. You don’t have to apologise.” I smiled. “But you need to understand something, okay?”

“And that is?” he asked, and I could hear the sarcastic edge to his voice, which was comforting beyond belief.

“It doesn’t matter how scared either of us is. Somehow we have to work this out. And that’s not going to happen if either of gives in to fear. If we let that happen then before we know it, it’ll be the twenty-fifth and we’ll have done nothing but kiss. What happens then?” He was silent, contemplating my explanation. Then, he slumped.

“You are correct…”

“Don’t apologise.” I cut in quickly before he could continue. “I get it, really. I’m not saying it’s easy. But I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again… I _am_ attracted to you. So stop being scared.” I smirked. “You’re meant to be the mature one, you know.” I teased, and he smiled.

 “Perhaps, but I am as new to this as you.” He explained. “So maturity is of no consequence.”

“Clearly.” I muttered. “So, are you going to quit wimping out?” I teased, taking hold of his hand and interlocking our fingers.

“Very well.” He said, and I smiled, shuffling up to press a light kiss to his lips. As I was pulling away, he smirked, pulling his hand from mine in order to wrap his arms around me and press me against him as our lips locked again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the build-up cruel?
> 
> It is, isn't it?
> 
> BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAA!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've been putting off the actual smut… I've never written smut before okay!?

His hands were threaded in my hair again, pulling me against him, and I realised something that was probably (at least partly) the cause of his fear as my body pressed against his.

Something hard was pressing into my leg, and I felt heat rush through me as his hand moved under my nightdress again to press against my back and pull me even closer as our lips moved against each other.

Somehow I always managed to forget how wonderful it felt to kiss him… How wonderful it felt to be pressed up against him, enveloped in warmth. But it really was the best feeling in the world.

We pulled apart again, and I raised an eyebrow, sending him a look that I hope said _‘still no different than last time’_ , and he seemed to get the message, because he gulped and looked away for a moment. As I was about to scold him for still being nervous, he turned back to me and smirked. My eyes widened as his hand trailed across my back and rested on my waist, deliberately this time.

He began to trace a line up my side, dragging his finger slowly up and under my crumpled nightdress, and I shuddered at his feather-light touch.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of him gently tracing patterns on my skin (though it was mere seconds) he let his hand rest flush against my heated skin and pushed it up to cup my breast. I felt my eyes close as I sucked in a shaky breath, before he captured my mouth again.

He moved the fabric of my nightdress up further so my torso was exposed to the warm air between us, before he pulled me against him again, and the sensation nearly overloaded my mind. The sheer feeling of having so much of our skin pressed together in such a way was beautiful. He was warm and his skin was smooth, and somehow it felt completely natural… Like we were supposed to be like that, like it was where I belonged… Is that weird?

He was rubbing circles into my back as he pulled away from my mouth to press a feather light kiss to my forehead. I finally opened my eyes and my gaze met with his. His pupils were dilated, and a soft, fond smile crinkled the edges of his eyes and I found myself smiling as well. In a bit of a daze, my nightdress was pulled over my head (it was only getting in the way) and I snuggled up against him, pressing a kiss to his neck. When his breath hitched, I smirked against his skin and repeated the action, over and over until finally I drew a single, reluctant groan from him.

I felt a grin twist my features at the growing hardness pressed against my thigh. It was good to know I could have such an effect on a man who was obsessed with control.

But however much I wanted to let my hand dip under the fabric of his flannel trousers, I knew that doing so would be too much for him. We had agreed to take this slowly.

It was an odd thing to think that despite my sheer lack of experience, I didn’t want to honour that agreement. I wanted to push him to the edge, and watch him come undone, as I knew he would. But if I did that, I had a horrible feeling that he would pull away from me forever, and it would be as if the past week had never happened… So I resigned myself to another week of pining and dreaming as I pressed one final kiss to the soft skin of his throat, knowing he would grow restless soon.

After a while, probably half an hour or less, he moved. I did not fight or protest; after all, I had been expecting it. Hieronymous was not the type to be able to lie in bed for a long while in the morning, and surprisingly I didn’t mind… I was getting used to his little habits. They were part of him, who he was…

I smiled at him as I unwound my hands from him to let him out of bed. He turned back to look at me, and froze, his cheeks turning red as I sat up and cocked my head in confusion.

It was then that I remembered my distinct lack of clothing, save for my panties. I flushed, watching his eyes appraise my body slowly, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as a small smirk curved one side of them.

“You’re beautiful.” He said, his voice a little lower than normal, but with the same seriousness I had grown accustomed to hearing from him. It sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. But I recovered quickly.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” I countered with a wink, and his smirk vanished as his mouth fell slightly open and his eyes widened. “What?” I shrugged. “It’s true.” And with that his smile returned, though it was more subtle, as he went to get dressed.

He took longer to get dressed than normal, which I only noticed because he wasn’t out by the time I had pulled an outfit from my wardrobe, while usually I'd still be deciding when he emerged. With a quick glance at the bathroom door, I decided I may as well just change now.

He finally emerged as I was doing-up the clasp of my belt and I threw him a small smile as I picked up my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. When I looked at him again, he blinked silently at me.

“What?” he shook his head and walked over to the door, looking back at me when he opened it and raising an eyebrow.

“Are you coming, or do you intend to stand there all day?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I felt my eyes widen and I scurried out of the door, noticing the smirk on his face as he followed me out.

I ate my cereal slowly, not because I didn’t want it, but just because I couldn’t really find the energy to make myself bother much.

“So, how far are you in The Adventures?” I asked as I stirred my cereal absent-mindedly.

“I finished The Adventure of the Speckled Band last night.” He said and I smiled.

“I liked that one. You were right, though…”

“Hm?”

“It’s not taking you long at all… And I haven’t had a chance to send my letter yet…” I muttered sorrowfully, pushing my lower lip out in a pout. He chuckled lightly.

“I’ve plenty of books to occupy me in the mean-time, Arianna. Besides, I’ve work to do, and reading Sherlock Holmes’ various adventures is quite a distraction from that.” I rolled my eyes, but smiled.

“Fine, I’ll let you do your work.” I muttered, as though it were the worst thing he could possibly do with his time, though my smile betrayed my true feelings on the matter.

As I was about to lift another spoonful of cereal to my mouth, a tap on my shoulder made me turn. My heart seemed to contract as I saw Ellen was the one who had tapped me. She thrust an envelope towards me.

“Apparently the new mail-runner doesn’t know you moved rooms…” she muttered, refusing to look at me, though I couldn’t tell if it was due to disgust or sadness… I gingerly took the envelope and examined the scrawled handwriting. _It must be from Virginia… I haven’t written to her in at least two weeks…_ I felt guilty at that thought.

“Thanks.” I said, trying to bring a smile back to my face, though I think I only managed a grimace. She disappeared before I could try any harder. I sighed and turned back to my husband, pushing my thumb under the flap off the envelope and wrenching it open.

A roughly folded piece of lined A4 fell onto the table, and I unfolded it carefully.

_Dear Arianna,_

_Ellen told me what happened… I was going to get annoyed that you hadn’t written in ages but then… I guess you’ve been busy._

_I can’t believe that custom still counts! I told my parents, ‘cause I didn’t understand. I mean, it never really crosses your mind, does it? Most newlyweds have honeymoons, after all… But they said that “yeah, of course it still counts”. Why can’t people warn you about these things?_

_I’m surprised Grabby didn’t know about it, but I guess the poor guy can’t know everything can he? Ellen doesn’t seem to understand, she thinks you should be avoiding it, doesn’t she? I guess it’s hard for wildseeds to grasp that these things just can’t be changed. I don’t see how she so surprised at how well you’re taking it though. I knew you had the hots for him anyway!_

_Ellen will come round; she’s just being grouchy ;) Good luck, Arianna!_

_Virginia_

I smiled, trying to hold back the tears that had welled in my eyes involuntarily. I folded the paper again and returned it to its envelope reverently as I saw a handkerchief being held out for me. I looked up to see Hieronymous frowning. I took the handkerchief and dabbed carefully at my eyes.

“Thanks.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. I gave him a watery smile.

“Nothing’s wrong. Virginia understands, that’s all…”

“Miss Danson?”

“Yeah… Ellen told her what happened. She thinks Ellen’s finding it hard to accept because she’s wildseed and doesn’t get that the old customs can’t be changed.” I explained, then blushed. “She’s also not surprised at how well I’m handling it in comparison.” He looked confused.

“Why isn’t she surprised?”

“Because apparently I ‘had the hots’ for you anyway.” I looked away, avoiding his scowl. A long silence stretched between the two of us, until finally I shrugged. “There may be some small amount of truth to that statement…” I muttered, risking a glance at him to see he looked quite startled by my confession. I smiled nervously. Somehow, my ability to cover my nerves with sarcastic comments fled me in that moment, and I couldn’t bring myself to make the joke about the love letter that swam into my head…


	21. Chapter 21

_Dear Virginia,_

_You have no idea how much your letter cheered me up. It’s good to know that someone understands (Potsdam doesn’t count haha). I’m really sorry for not writing to you sooner, but my mind’s been in a bit of a shambles lately thanks to what’s happened…_

_Ellen’s been… understandably stressed… But I hope you’re right. I don’t want this to destroy our friendship._

_You know, I don’t know what would’ve happened if we’d known about it before. Maybe I’d be dead right now, I doubt Hieronymous would have agreed to it in that circumstance… But then, maybe he would have thought “we’ll worry about that later”. I don’t know if I have the guts to ask him._

_I hope you’re having a good summer. Miss you!_

_Arianna_

It took me a long while to write that letter, even though it was relatively simple, and even a little bland. I just couldn’t think what to say to her. ‘ _Hey ex-roommate! I’m living with my husband now and have to work out how to have sex with him in the next two weeks or I’m going to die!’_ didn’t really seem appropriate… But it was good to know that she wasn’t upset about it. Or, if she was upset, at least she was less-so than Ellen.

As she crossed my mind, my grip on the paper tightened ever-so-slightly, crinkling the middle where I held it, prepared to fold it neatly. I stayed like that for a long moment as I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath in and out, willing her face out of my mind.

But, as usual, it didn’t work and I felt a couple of tears leak from my eyes before two hands covered mine and attempted to pry my fingers from the page.

“What’s wrong?” his silky voice was like a gust of wind rippling the surface of the water in which Ellen’s face swam, dispelling the cruel look in her eyes and the disgust that was always plain on her face in recent weeks. Finally, my fingers gave way, and the letter fluttered onto the desk lightly as I turned my hands over to take his hands in mine, letting out a relieved breath. His mere presence was enough to relax me again. “Miss Middleton will eventually come to accept things the way they are, Arianna. You should not trouble yourself with her thoughts on the matter.” I huffed a small laugh. How could he have known I was thinking about that?

Silently, I pulled his arms around me. It was the most awkward hug I’d ever had in my life, but it was nice all-the-same. He was warm, and smelt like books, as usual, and I don’t think he’ll ever know how much I love that smell. Or him…

When the final vestiges of my sorrow had been eradicated, I let him go and turned to smile at him in gratitude. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s quite alright.” He interrupted, smiling as well.  “If I can stop you from crying, I am glad to help.” It came out a little harsher than he probably meant, but the sentiment was there, and I nodded.

“Thanks…” I said, turning back to my letter. Slowly, I smoothed the crinkled sides and lifted the page up again, reading over it one last time before folding it and slipping it into the envelope. I placed it on the edge of the desk, that I might send it tomorrow, and stood to get my nightdress out. I’d spent all night writing the letter, and now it was nearly half past midnight. Hieronymous had changed into his pyjamas at least an hour ago, probably longer, but then I hadn’t really been keeping track.

As I opened the door to my wardrobe, I realised Hieronymous had remained standing by the desk, watching me. I turned and frowned.

“What?” I asked gently.

“I would still have said yes.” He said quietly. My frown deepened.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your letter… You wrote about if we’d have known about this… issue… you didn’t know if I would have let you die.” I froze. He’d read it over my shoulder. I could feel the muscles in my arms, my shoulders, every inch of me tensing with guilt. I shouldn’t have written that… Why did I write that?

“I…” My voice was stuck, my throat closing.

But then he smiled.

“I understand. But I would not have let you die.” He walked towards me, until he was looming over me, dwarfing me besides the wardrobe, which was almost the same height. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around me, as though I were a china doll that might break if he squeezed too hard. “I’m glad I didn’t know, though.” He murmured into my hair. I looked up at him.

“Why?”

“Because had I known, I would most likely have insisted on the memory solution. And that would have been cruel… To both of us.” He explained. I smiled.

“I’m glad you didn’t know then.” I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before turning back to my wardrobe. But he kept hold of me from behind as I pulled my nightdress out. “You’re making this awfully difficult.”

“That is half the point.” He said quietly, brushing my hair aside in order to press his lips to my neck. I shuddered.

“W-what’s the other half?” I stammered quietly and he chuckles lightly into my ear, sending another shudder rippling through me.

“To get a reaction, of course.” He let go and stepped back to allow me access to the bathroom. I nearly tripped over the corner of the wardrobe as I went, blushing.

When I’d finally closed the door, I slumped against it. It felt as though I was going to melt into a puddle on the floor _. I mean_ _my god! How does he **do** that!? _ He had an effect on me as it was, but a moment ago, he’d been doing it _on purpose_. I’d never considered that he might do that. I never thought he’d be the type to try and get a reaction. Not that I minded… Perhaps this meant that we really were getting somewhere with this… this… arrangement? No.

Relationship. That was what it had become, and that had proved it in my mind. Even if he’d said before that we were a couple, until now, I had been unsure of my footing, like I was on a rocky slope with no foot-holds and a rock-slide chasing me down, pushing me ever closer to the deadline; the edge of the cliff. If I reached it, it was all over… But tonight a hand took hold of mine. And I stopped sliding. Instead, I’m walking on the steep, rugged rock-face, and I feel safe.

I always have felt safe with him.

Finally, I broke myself from my reverie and hurriedly got ready for bed. When I left the bathroom, he was waiting to turn off the light. I scurried over, just like our first night, but not like our first night… No, it was very different. This time, he was smiling at me, and once I’d clambered into bed and he had switched off the light, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as I draped an arm over his stomach.

I found it odd that this had become normal for us, and yet… It felt right.

The next morning, I woke up cold… He’d left early, managing not to wake me (though honestly, I think I’d have preferred to have been woken up). There was, however, a small note on the pillow.

_Arianna,_

_I shall be working all day. I will see you this evening._

_Hieronymous_

Simple. Functional. I don’t know what I was expecting, but that seemed a little, well… plain in comparison. Though I supposed I should count my blessings; at least he left a note. That was, to the best of my knowledge, as thoughtful as someone like Hieronymous Grabiner could be.

Monday was cold. Even though the summer sun blazed through the window and made the room into a make-shift greenhouse, I just felt cold. I wrapped myself up in the dressing-gown stowed in the bottom of my suitcase-wardrobe - I certainly hadn’t expected to need it – and curled up under the covers with my copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which Hieronymous had finished the night before.

By lunch, I had finished the book, and decided to remain out of the room, hoping to dispel the cold feeling that had stubbornly wrapped itself around my shoulders, like a blanket made of snow. I had a feeling it wouldn’t work…

It only grew colder when I saw Ellen out in the courtyard, talking to a boy with green, spiky hair… I didn’t care who the boy was, it was the sight of Ellen… Smiling and laughing… While I was alone.

I sighed as I realised that was what the cold feeling was… Loneliness. That was why I had been so cold when I woke up. Because even before I’d opened my eyes, I knew he wasn’t there.

And that’s when a horrid though crossed my mind… _What if he forces me out when all this is over? What if he makes me go back to the dorm-room with Ellen? What if I have to sleep alone?_ A part of me knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it, not after getting used to it as I had. _Please don’t push me away, Hieronymous_. I pleaded in my mind.

I ended up in the piano room again, weaving melodies for myself to calm my raging paranoia.

As I did so, I thought more carefully about the thoughts I had had when I’d seen Ellen in the courtyard.

Would he really push me away after everything we’d been through together? After we’d both become so used to each other’s company at night? Surely not.

“Well, you’re obviously thinking if you’re in here.” Came a familiar voice, and suddenly the snow melted away and I was enveloped in warmth as a small smile crept onto my face. I stopped playing and turned to my husband, who was walking towards me from the doorway. “What’s wrong this time?”

“Nothing.” I said honestly, because nothing was wrong…  Not now anyway.

We ate together in comfortable silence, and as we walked back towards our room, there was a spring in my step, as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

That feeling didn’t last long though…

Stood outside our door, with her hand raised, clearly about to knock… was Ellen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of doing a little spin-off based on their topic of discussion in this chapter... What do you reckon guys? (I'll probably write it anyway, but I wonder if you guys would want to read it?)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So University is looming... I go back in a couple weeks, and my life is currently a mess of sorting things out for my new house... So updates are going to start slowing down now, and will eventually slow to an update once a week or two weeks, since I'll be have 9-6 days in Uni and time to write will be sparse... Just so you know x

“Miss Middleton.” He was clearly trying not to sound angry or sardonic. Either way, Ellen jumped, spinning around to stare at us, like she’d been caught in a forbidden area of the school. Technically, she had. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I…” She looked down. How did she even know where his rooms were? Did she go and ask Potsdam? “I… I wanted to talk to Arianna.” Hieronymous glanced at me and I nodded. _I’ll be fine._ I tried to say with my eyes. He sighed.

“I shall be inside.” He indicated the door, sending a glare at Ellen that I imagined might cut through lead. She paused for a moment, before squeaking a little and stepping back to flatten herself against the wall opposite the door as he disappeared through it.

A long moment passed between us in silence once the door had closed. Finally, Ellen pushed herself away from the wall and faced me, though she refused to look at me.

“How do you put up with him?” she asked, trying and failing to be casual about it. I imagine my attempt failed just as miserably…

“He… He’s nicer once you get to know him.” My voice was hoarse, probably due to lack of use and the strange effect my ex-roommate/friend seemed to have on me and my emotions.

“That glare could’ve melted off my face.” She muttered. I smiled awkwardly.

“He’s just… protective.” I explained. She slumped. Her awkwardness melted away somehow, though mine did no such thing. Instead, she became sad, still not looking at me, although it was clear she was trying to.

“I suppose he has every right to be.” She muttered, more to herself by the sound of her voice. Subsequently, I did not reply. After a moment, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then she met my gaze. “Arianna. I know I haven’t been… a very good friend to you.” It felt like a cold hand had gripped my heart, digging long, sharp claws into the soft flesh, leaving frosty scars that might never heal… Would she finally accept that I cared about my husband? Or would this be just another pointless argument to make me feel worthless and alone? “Okay, I’ve been terrible. I was so busy trying to find a way to get you out of this situation, I never stopped to think that perhaps… you were doing okay on your own. I don’t know what Virginia wrote to you, but she told me that ‘of course’ you’d be okay with it… I never took into account the fact that maybe you would really be okay with it. Even after that conversation we had in the exam, I just couldn’t accept that you actually cared about him.”

“Ellen-” She held up a hand to stop me, and I obeyed.

“I wanted to apologise… Neither of you asked for this. But you were right. That doesn’t mean you have to be miserable. And as your friend… I should have supported whatever you decided. Even… Even after I made that mistake the first time, I… I made it again. I judged the situation without considering all the variables.” I couldn’t help smiling a little at her scientific way of speaking. “I… No. No, I won’t ask that. All I ask is for you to forgive me.” I couldn’t help but wonder what she was going to ask, but I pushed that thought aside for the time-being, and smiled, ignoring the tears pricking in my eyes.

“I… I forgive you, Ellen. I know you were just… looking out for me. But I can take care of myself.”

“I know. As your friend, I should have known that from the beginning.”

“Hey, you’re wildseed like me. How are we supposed to know anything about customs and all that crap, when nobody tells us? Of course you searched for a solution. That’s just… well, it’s who you are.” I said. Honestly, I was still upset. It wasn’t something I could easily forget, nor was it something I could completely forgive, not straight away at least.

However, I was _not_ willing to have another argument with her about this. I couldn’t stand the feeling of utter despair anymore. I couldn’t deal with worrying about every time I saw her in the hall, thinking that she’d storm over and yell at me, saying I shouldn’t love him… The easiest way to destroy that feeling was to forgive her, or at least try. I would do my best. It would take time, maybe years to finally forget the loneliness her actions brought on me. But I had to give her a chance. Perhaps she read my mind, or perhaps she just figured that it was the most likely scenario, but she seemed to understand.

“I know forgiving me isn’t easy… but thanks. I guess I’ll see you around?” she asked with an easy smile. I smiled back, though it was hard to.

Suddenly, she pulled me into a tight hug, stunning me into silence. She was gone before I could say anything.

I took a moment to process what had just happened. I’d just got my friend back. Even if there was some work to be done before I could forgive her… I had her back. I sighed in relief, and made to open the door.

The sight that greeted me nearly made me chuckle. _Nearly_. He’d probably have killed me if I _had_ laughed.

He was sat on the bed, book in hand, whistling… The thing was, he’d finished the book the night before, and he never whistles.

“You weren’t trying to listen at all then?” I muttered with a smirk. He looked up, visibly flustered, but scowled.

“Why would I do that? It was a private conversation.” He snapped defensively. I held my hands up in mock-surrender.

“All right. Whatever. I’m taking a shower.” I announced, still smiling as I rummaged through my wardrobe for another set of pyjamas.

I ended up with another nightdress (why did I own so many of those?). This time, it was a deep purple, with spaghetti straps and a black hem. Other than that, it was quite plain, but I didn’t really care about that too much. Somehow I doubted my husband would appreciate a “Me to You” nightdress with a small grey teddy-bear printed on it. I giggled quietly as I tried to imagine his reaction, composing myself in order to turn on the water.

Once showered and dressed, I left the bathroom to see that Hieronymous was bent over his desk, scribbling away at his paperwork. I couldn’t help but smile at how normal it felt to see him doing that. A part of me felt like I should have been scolding him for working so much, but I didn’t really want to do that. He had always seemed the type to do this sort of thing, to lock himself away and work for days, or perhaps more metaphorically to lock himself in his own little world, where work was all there was. He enjoyed his work, that much was clear. And who was I to take him away from something that would have to be done eventually anyway?

So, with that thought keeping my smile in place, I went over to skim the bookshelves for something to read.

I’d never read much back home, before magic school. I’d always been too busy texting my friends, or playing on my computer to bother. So when I’d first arrived at Iris Academy and realised that no such technology was allowed, it had been daunting. But after a week had passed and I had become accustomed to my new home, I had picked up a book on blue magic from the library. I had spent the better part of my weekend reading it, only stopping to go to the mall at Virginia’s command, and to write a letter to my parents.

Virginia had wondered why Ellen and I studied so frequently, when we did only that during the week. I hadn’t tried to explain it, because she wouldn’t understand. But Ellen and I had shared a look of mutual understanding that day.

We both enjoyed reading. Ellen always had, but I had only recently discovered my love for it thanks to my technology being brutally ripped from me. Besides, the subject was fascinating. We were learning about magic, for crying out loud. Sure, to any magic-born child it was a mundane, everyday occurrence. But for us wildseeds? It was a whole new world to explore, with a wealth of knowledge to uncover.

Ellen and I became good friends because we understood each other in that regard. We would study together. She would help me with the theory of magic, the ‘science’ if you prefer, while I helped her with the practical applications, particularly blue and black, my favourites. As we spent time together we found common interests, and within months we were best friends, and I felt closer to her than I had to any of my friends back home.

Then, I had married Hieronymous Grabiner. Oh, the marriage itself hadn’t caused any problems. It was the consequences that had. Now, I didn’t know how I’d ever forgive her for how she treated me. How she shunned me, her best friend, simply because I had to sleep with my husband.

We certainly weren’t best friends anymore. Hell, friends might be considered a stretch… But at least now we weren’t fighting. It was a start.

But, if I was honest, it was okay. I didn’t mind too much. Perhaps I should have cared more, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. I had a friend in Hieronymous Grabiner now. 

Things were by no means perfect, but at least they were looking up.


	23. Chapter 23

The rest of the week was uneventful. I spent much of my time reading various books, fiction and non-fiction alike, often taking a walk in the afternoon (reading can get a little taxing after your third book in a day). I would occasionally see Ellen, sat beneath a tree with a book from the library.

I was pleased to note that after our conversation, she had returned the book on magical customs, and returned to ordinary studies. She may not have completely accepted the custom, but at least she wasn’t trying (in vain) to find a solution.

I didn’t see Hieronymous very often, he was busy with teachers meetings and lesson plans… He did, after all, have four years’ worth of students to plan for, not to mention how many actual lessons he taught each one. Besides that, he was teaching the make-up classes over the summer for those who wound up with 50 demerits… It was a wonder to me how he did it all without tiring himself out… But he did.

It did however leave me feeling a little nervous. We were now coming up to our third weekend… That meant we only had two left altogether… Having not seen him all week, it felt a little like we’d regressed back a few steps on the path to saving each other. It was a slow enough path, without his work causing us to have huge chunks of time apart. The only time we saw each other was late in the evening, when he would crawl into bed beside me and fall asleep in minutes. I was under the impression that he usually thought I was asleep, judging by how quiet he tried to be and the fact that not once had he pulled me to him.

I would always snuggle up to him anyway, once he was fast asleep. I had grown accustomed to his warmth, and sleeping without him was looking more and more impossible with each night.

But I defiantly pushed my doubts away. Doubts would get us nowhere, not at this stage…

Finally, Friday rolled around, and he finished early again. Fridays seemed to be kind to him in that respect. I was sat on the bed with a book on Green Magic in my hands (I had actually managed to get through the whole first shelf of blue magic, and had decided that perhaps I should study something else for a while) when he came in. I lifted my head from my book to look at him, but he didn’t acknowledge me, heading towards his desk instead.

I sighed. He clearly intended to continue his work… Then, I smirked.

The look of surprise on his face when I materialised on his desk was priceless.

“Arianna! I didn’t realise you were in here…”

“I know. I was on the bed, reading. I think you’re going blind, Hieronymous.” I winked, and he huffed.

“Get off my desk.” He grumbled.

“Nope. You just want to do more work.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“There is when it’s all you’ve been doing all week and your poor little wife has barely seen you.” I made a show of pouting, but he only folded his arms. So, I copied him. “Hieronymous, you’ve been disappearing in the mornings before I even wake up, and then you just crawl straight into bed when you get in. We haven’t had a conversation in _four days_ and we live together!” I explained exasperatedly. “I don’t think you’ve even said a word to me since Monday night…” I added quietly, and I don’t think he heard me.

“I’ve work to do, Arianna.”

“I understand that, but is it really such a terrifying thought to relax occasionally? I know you like your work, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but other things are important too!” I cried. He sighed.

“I haven’t forgotten again if that’s what you’re worried about.” He muttered, sounding disinterested. I frowned. _Forgotten? Oh!_ He thought I was worried he’d forgotten our deadline again… I admit, I’d been worrying about related things, but nothing he need be concerned about. I certainly didn’t need to tell him about those worries, since there was little either of us could do to ease them. So I smiled pleasantly as I corrected his assumption.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I know you wouldn’t forget again, you’re not stupid.” He seemed appeased by that. “I just don’t want you overworking yourself. So go and sit down and read a book. Hopefully, my parents will have sent the first Sherlock Holmes book this week…” I thought aloud.

“Fine, but may I at least get to my desk?”

“No.”

He scowled. “Why?”

“Because I don’t trust that you won’t do work. So if you want to get to this desk, you’ll have to go through me.”

Suddenly, his eyes darkened, and I realised that it was perhaps a bad idea to say that as he advanced toward me. But I held my ground, wrapping my fingers around the edge of the desk resolutely as I stared into his dark red eyes, ignoring the blush that was clearly colouring my cheeks.

And then we were kissing. My mouth opened in shock and he took full advantage as he speared his fingers through my hair and pulled me closer. I knew he was trying to distract me… And my God was it working… My grip on the table loosened a little, and I had to fight not to wrap my arms around him. I was no idiot. This was an attempt to get me to let down my guard so I’d let him back to his desk… I wished it wasn’t, but I was certainly no idiot. So I clung to the desk with all my might, and finally he pulled away. I smirked at him.

“I’m no idiot, Hieronymous. That’s not gonna work.” I breathed, realising with slight embarrassment that I was thoroughly out of breath.

“Damn.” He drawled, and it sounded almost like he didn’t really care that it hadn’t worked. I crossed my legs and sighed.

“We’ll be here a while if you don’t give up and go read a damn book.” I shrugged. “Not that it matters to me. I could sit here _all night_.” A funny sort of glint came into his eyes at that, and I realised I’d made a horrible mis-calculation as he flicked his hand towards me. I felt the magic wrap around me. _A binding spell… Brilliant. Why did I provoke him?_ I noted, with a small measure of relief that my mouth could still move. “Really, Hieronymous? Isn’t this a little childish?” I tried to keep my voice calm, and succeeded for the most part.

“You are the one acting childish, so I shall treat you like a child.” He drawled sardonically. _God his voice is beautiful…_ I couldn’t help thinking, but shoved the thought away. I had to focus on convincing him to let me go without letting him do work.

“Oh come on, this is hardly fair. And how does it help you exactly? Now I’m definitely stuck here.” I argued with a grimace.

“Not true.” He smirked and flicked his hand again. I was back on the bed, though still in an awkward position thanks to the binding spell… I sighed, watching as he sat down at his desk and began to write… _That went well, Arianna… Well bloody done…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but I thought that was a good point to leave it... sorry :P It's quite painful knowing that I will have to slow down updates... but I literally finished writing this chapter today, and that hasn't happened before... I've become quite busy sorting out my things to return to University this week, so... yeah :/ I just really wanted to give you guys something, even if it was small... Hope you liked it x


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay I managed to find the time to write this chapter :) I finished moving in yesterday :D So I have this evening and tomorrow to attempt to catch up with my fanfics a bit :) Wish me luck and enjoy the chapter x

I was stuck… Completely unable to move. I had a horrible feeling, as well, that when I finally _was_ able to move, I’d be in a lot of pain… Because I was stuck with my arms outstretched, and my fingers curled around the air as though there were an invisible pole. My legs were at a 90 degree angle, and were bent at a similar degree, with my ankles crossed and my feet pointed down.

To top it all off, I was laid on my back on my side of the bed, my head tilted at a funny angle, so I’d probably have a stiff neck when I was unfrozen by my husband, which didn’t look to be anytime soon. He was pointedly ignoring me while he scribbled away at his desk…

My attempts to pull him away from his work had landed me in this position. I’d sat on his desk and refused to move… Not my brightest idea, I must admit, taunting an expert on Blue Magic, who could bind and teleport me with ease.

I had tried several times in the first hour or so of my imprisonment to get his attention and beg him to let me at least get into a more comfortable position, but he either didn’t hear me, or ignored me entirely. I was betting on the latter.

As I lay there though, my mind wandered (what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t even read a book in that position…). My thoughts slowly drifted through the sequence of events, stopping on one particular moment… A kiss.

Even if it had been a ploy to distract me enough to get me off the desk, it had still been a wonderful feeling. His hands had rested on mine, we’d been so close… Even though we’d been closer before, it was a different kind of feeling. It was rough and desperate and, despite the circumstances, passionate. A part of me wished I’d given in. At least then I wouldn’t be stuck in a position that was sure to leave me stiff for days.

My mind continued to wander down that path, getting continuously more explicit with its thoughts, until I realised that I had made it to imagining I was bent over the table with him driving into me over and over. I tried to will the image away, but to no avail. It was an infuriating feeling, one I’d certainly never felt before… Sure, I wasn’t against the idea of sex with my husband. I found him attractive, and the sound of his voice was enough to short-circuit my brain, but I’d never allowed myself to take a fantasy so far that I’d actually become aroused thinking of having him inside me, and how wonderful that feeling might be.

When the scratching from across the room stopped, I strained my eyes to try and catch a glimpse of him, the image dissipating as my focus poured into my task. Finally, I saw a flicker of robes behind my left leg as he stood from his chair and turned. I heard him pause.

“Arianna?”

“Yes?” I drawled.

“Why are you-”

“Let me stop you there. Did you _forget_ you bound me and teleported me here?” I snapped. I wasn’t surprised at my anger. He had left me in this agonising position not because he was making a point of ignoring me, but because he’d _forgotten I was there_. _Who does that!?_ How could you bind someone, then conveniently _forget_ that you had left them in such a state with no way of entertaining themselves, leaving their mind to wander to the darkest depths of explicit imaginings?

The look on his face told me I was correct. He _had_ forgotten me… _Don’t I feel special…_ I thought irritatedly.

“I… I apologise.” He muttered, and suddenly, my legs and arms fell onto the bed with a light THWUMP. The muscles in both screamed at the sudden change, as did my neck as I readjusted it. I grunted as I pushed myself up with a grimace, moving my neglected muscles as much as I could in the process.

As I painfully made my way to my wardrobe, I found my anger flaring. He’d forgotten me… _again_. He had bound me and left me for _god knows how long_ , stuck in the most uncomfortable position imaginable, because he was working… I’d have preferred it if he had been purposely ignoring me, if I was being honest with myself… At least then it would have been because he thought I deserved it for being a pain in the neck (I admit I can be quite irritating), not because I was so _unimportant and meaningless_ that my voice didn’t even affect him or remind him of my existence or predicament. I glared at him from the corner of my eye as I rummaged through my things, searching for my nightie.

“I truly am sorry.” He repeated, and his voice was quieter than I’d ever heard it… and smaller… I turned to him with a frown.

“You forgot me again…” I muttered quietly. I’d been going for the strong tactic, but apparently my voice had other ideas. So did my eyes, as I noticed suddenly that tears were dripping down my cheeks. I couldn’t quite discern the reason, though I had a hunch it was either because he’d forgotten me twice now (and that had delivered a crippling blow to my self-confidence); because I was angry with him for having forgotten me, or because I ached all over from the ridiculous position I’d been stuck in. “How… how long was I even stuck there for?”

We both glanced at the clock…. _Four hours. FOUR HOURS I was stuck there…_ He looked mildly horrified. No, scratch that… He looked _completely horrified_ and guilty… So very guilty… My anger melted away, replaced by a stabbing feeling, as though my heart was being ripped in two. That look on his face was breaking my heart…

“Hieronymous…” I whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry I was being so annoying… I… I guess I deserved that, huh?” his eyes widened, and then he frowned.

“No. Perhaps you were being annoying… In fact, you were being a complete pain… But you did _not_ deserve that. I had intended to release you after five minutes.” He explained, the strength thankfully returned to his voice.

“Oh… o-okay.” I couldn’t look at him. _Why can’t I look at him…?_ I hurried into the bathroom, avoiding his gaze. I decided to take a long shower, letting the water wash away the aching in my muscles as it poured over my body.

It was an hour later when I finally emerged from the bathroom. My fingers were slightly wrinkled, but my muscles didn’t ache as much as they had and my emotions had dulled, like a rock being eroded away by the waters of a river, except this hadn’t taken quite so long.

He was sat in bed, reading. I frowned when I realised he was holding ‘The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes’.

“I thought you’d finished that.” I muttered as I paced over to the bed softly. He bookmarked his spot, then gave me a small smile.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t re-read it.” He said pleasantly.

“I guess that’s true. I’ve read it tonnes.” I shrugged. He nodded in acknowledgement, placing his book on the side as I shuffled into bed beside him. He turned off the light and shifted down under the covers. An awkward silence settled over us, and my heart hammered in my chest. I wasn’t angry with him anymore, but after being stuck for four hours, and those four hours being filled with nothing but thoughts of him, I couldn’t help but feel… well, awkward.

An age passed, and I was certain he had already fallen asleep, until I heard him turn to me. “Arianna.” His voice was soft, as though he was afraid of waking me.

“I’m awake.” I replied, turning to him and opening my eyes.

“I truly am sorry.” He said. I smiled.

“Thank you. But I’m not angry.” I assured him.

“You’ve every right to be.”

“I was, earlier. But not now. No point holding onto a grudge, right?” I reasoned. He smiled, then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, pressing a gentle kiss into my hair. I took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. Books, candles… a vaguely masculine smell that I couldn’t place but smelt wonderful nonetheless. It was warm in his arms. Warm and safe… I was asleep in minutes.

When I woke up, he was reading with one arm keeping me pulled close to him while the other held the book. I smiled and nuzzled into his chest slightly. I liked mornings like this, though they were few.

It was becoming normal again to wake up to an empty bed, despite my protests that I’d rather be woken up, and I didn’t like it. Even if that had been normal before, I didn’t want it to become normal again. Now, that felt wrong.

_This feels right…_ I thought, pressing  my lips to the warm skin of his neck. _This is how it’s meant to be…_

We had finally figured out how to be husband and wife. We still had a few things to work out, but there was time. And I was quite happy to wake up next to him reading. For now at least.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I've been getting weighed down with Uni... but I've been snatching bits of time, and now the weekend is here and I've managed to punch out another chapter. It's at least 1000 words longer than normal XD I know it's not much, but it was really hard for me to do. Thank you all for the feedback and I shall endeavour to keep making longer chapters!

“Good morning.” His voice rumbled through his chest and I smiled against his skin, keeping my eyes closed in contentment.

“Mmm.” Was the only reply I gave, earning a chuckle from my husband as I shuffled impossibly closer to him, reveling in the warmth and comfort of having him beside me for once. His arm wrapped a little tighter around me and his thumb rubbed at my shoulder gently.

As usual, I had no clue what time it was, and frankly I had no desire to find out. The moment my husband told me the time usually signified that he’d be getting out of bed soon.

I couldn't help the mounting worry in my mind though at the thought of losing the warm body next to mine to another day of books and drivel. Even if it was a weekend – Saturday no less – he would still be up and busying himself before I had the chance to really revel in his warmth and company.

But the dreaded moment never seemed to come. Instead, I received a concerned: “Arianna, are you still upset about yesterday?” _Wait, what?_

I opened my eyes blearily, frowning at him through my lashes (I really couldn't be bothered to open my eyes completely). “I told you… I’m not angry.” I mumbled, quieter than I’d intended. I ignored that as I let my head flop back onto his chest.

“Then why are you so tense?” he observed, running a smooth hand over my arm for emphasis. It relaxed under his gentle touch, and I opened my eyes again. I realised with a start that my mental worry had translated (unwillingly) into physical tension, and I swallowed guiltily.

“Sorry.” I murmured. “I just hate anticipating the moment you tell me it’s half-nine, or ten…” I felt a light chuckle resonate through him. “What?”

“It is barely eight o’clock, Arianna. I have no intention of getting out of bed so early on a Saturday.” He explained bluntly, as though I was sat at a desk in his classroom listening to him teach. Had I been more awake, my eyes might have widened. But instead, I found my mouth forming an “o” in silent contemplation. I mentally slapped myself as I realised that he had discarded his book in favour of wrapping his arm around me and a warmth settled in my chest as I smiled.

“Oh.” I finally said, quietly and contentedly, closing my eyes completely again as I snuggled into his embrace happily.

Worries gone, I slipped in and out of sleep for a long while, quite content to be in his arms. I didn't feel hungry, nor did I feel bored. Just happy and warm.

Eventually, I pushed my eyes open again, to see that he was looking right at me, staring at me– no, watching me with those deep wine-red eyes. _How long has he been looking at me?_ I wondered silently, not that it mattered much. I smiled at him and one corner of his lips crept up into a smirk that I was quickly learning was his smile of happiness. He shifted slightly to press our lips together in a gentle kiss, and I melted into him.

People always talk about soul-mates and destiny… I've never held much stock in either, but if I did then I’d found him. My soul-mate... We just seemed to fit each other perfectly. Or maybe that’s just how it feels to be in love? I’m certainly not the person to ask about what being in love entails, this being my first relationship… my first love. Oh sure I’d had crushes… But they’d never amounted to anything in the end. All through middle school, my friends were getting boyfriends while I sat on the side-lines confused and scared by the whole ordeal. Who would have thought I would be the first to get married (even if it wasn't a marriage by choice)?

He began to move, tracing his tongue along my lower lip, asking permission, and I obliged, opening my mouth slightly to let him in and he began to explore my mouth languidly, rather than the usual passionate speed I’d become used to. If asked which I preferred, I couldn't possibly answer… I don’t know if I can even describe how it felt… But I guess I’ll try.

While I admit to loving the desperation behind our more passionate encounters, this had a different quality to it… A gentle exploration, treading slowly as we caressed each other. If I didn't know any better, I’d say it felt like love. It was as though we were worshiping each other, lavishing attention and care on the only thing that mattered… That’s certainly how I felt. I would happily admit to worshiping the very ground he walked on. Whether the same could be said for him, I was unsure. But that was what came through in his actions as his mouth moved against mine.

His hand swept smoothly, carefully, across my back and underneath my nightie, moving gently across my skin and pulling me closer before pushing up to expose my breasts as he cupped one, tracing his thumb over the sensitive skin of my nipple and drawing an involuntary moan from my mouth into his. I could feel the effect it had on him as his hardness pressed into my leg and he squeezed gently, experimenting… It pulled another moan from my mouth. I could feel myself blushing. I’d never moaned before and it felt strange. But he didn't seem to care. He just kept teasing and kissing me and swallowing the quiet moans as they escaped me.

When his hand left my breasts, I groaned at the loss, feeling him suddenly smirk into the kiss as his hand drifted to my waist and continued past it to trace the edge of my panties. A shiver went through me and heat pooled in my core at the feeling of his fingers on my skin. It was exquisite torture as he continued to carefully touch me, occasionally trailing his hand down my leg, but never going to the places I desperately wanted him to touch. I was beginning to ache with need, and I let out a deliberate moan, trying to push him towards what I wanted. But he ignored me, clearly quite content to let me writhe.

My desperation was mounting to unbearable levels by that point, and I decided it was about time that I gave him a taste of his own torture. So I let my hand, which until now had been tracing patterns on his back, slide down to the waistband of his pyjama pants, tracing slowly along the skin there, first from his back, then to his side. I then let my hand snake between us in order to do the same at his front, and it was my turn to smirk when he shuddered, moving his hips to attempt some kind of friction, but I moved my hand away to run it up his chest. _Now you know how I feel._ I thought, smirking again.

But the smirk was wiped from my face as he suddenly moved in order to pin me to the bed with him above me, still not breaking the kiss. The teasing stopped and we were back into familiar territory; desperate, passionate kisses, although the light moans were still a new addition on my part.

I felt all too warm, but it was a wonderful feeling, having my husband leant over me, our skin brushing lightly together and heat pooling at my core at the feeling of his hardness pressing into my leg.

But then he pulled away, eyes wide as he looked down at me. I sighed as I recognised the look in his eyes.

“Hieronymous.” It came out husky and low, which wasn't my original plan, but I wasn't going to complain, because I saw his eyes darken again. _Is that what lust looks like?_ I couldn't help but wonder. I’d certainly never experienced it, but lust was the only thing that came to mind to describe what was happening in that moment, staring into his dark eyes and wishing, _wishing_ that he would just go back to kissing me… Touching me… _Anything_.

“Arianna…” he whispered, his voice rough and _my god…_ If I’d been affected by his voice before, I couldn't even describe what was happening to me after that. I felt like I was going to melt… But even behind the darkness in his eyes that told me he was feeling that same way I was, I could still see that familiar look of fear. The look that said _‘I shouldn't be doing this… I didn't mean to get carried away.’_  I hated that look. I couldn't stand the thought of him being so nervous around me. That wasn't the Hieronymous I knew. That wasn't my husband.

My husband was confident and sure of himself. My husband was obsessed with his work. My husband knew what was right and always acted accordingly. And yet, the man staring down at me _was_ my husband. He was human, just like me. He got scared. He could be shy. He wasn't perfect.

All my time with him, I’d placed him on a pedestal, like a God looking down on me, judging my every movement and emotion. But he wasn't a God. He was just Hieronymous.

And that only made me love him more.

I let a gentle smile curve my mouth. _It’s okay…_ I thought. _It’s okay._ I hoped that the message would come through clearly in my eyes, my smile… He seemed to relax a touch, but the fear lingered, so I decided there was really only one way to solve the problem once and for all.

I tilted my head up slightly, sliding my hand up from his back to tangle in his hair, pulling him down to meet my lips. Gently, I let my feelings flow into my actions as I traced his lower lip with my tongue, asking permission. He hesitated for half a beat, before finally letting me in, and slowly I felt the walls around him crumble again as I began to trace patterns into his back again, occasionally dipping to brush against the waistband of his pyjama pants.

As the last wall fell down, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up in order to flip us over again, keeping our lips locked. Now he was pinned underneath me and he took advantage of the fact as his hands snaked around to cup my breasts again, giving an experimental squeeze before beginning to massage the soft buds of my nipples, sending heat rushing through me, and bringing a quiet moan from my mouth. He pulled away from the kiss in order to press his lips to my neck and the feeling was electric as he sucked lightly at the sensitive flesh at the bottom of my neck where it met my shoulder. Without his mouth to muffle my groan of pleasure at the sensation, I blushed, but I didn't have much time to dwell on it as he began to work his way down from my neck to pull one of my nipples into his mouth. He began to nip at it slightly, sending a shudder through me with each scrape of his teeth.

My mind was a scramble of emotions and sensations. And through them all, I was finding more and more that I wanted to touch him… I wanted to hear _him_ moan. So carefully, I dipped one finger under the fabric of his pyjama pants, testing the waters, afraid that he would pull away, that he would let fear rule him again.

He froze for a moment, clearly processing the meaning behind my actions. I said nothing, locking my eyes with his, asking permission. His eyes held that familiar fear, but behind it I saw my reflection, as though he could hear my voice in his head saying _“we’ll never get anywhere at this rate”_ and as if in answer to my unspoken question, he pulled our lips together again tenderly, gingerly. I could taste the trepidation behind his actions, so I went slowly, letting another finger slip beneath the waistband, then another. Eventually, I reached the point where I could pull the fabric away, and I did that just as slowly. I could feel my heart hammering against my chest. Fear and excitement flooded into my mind in equal measure, mixing into odd patterns of light and darkness behind my closed eye-lids as I focused on the feeling of his lips on mine to steady my erratic mood-swings.

A part of me was too scared. A part of me didn't want to take this vital step in our relationship. I liked the comfortable domesticity we had established, and if it turned out neither of us were ready for this… That would shatter. Awkwardness would take over our lives and I doubted either of us would get a wink of sleep if we continued to sleep in the same bed.

But I wanted this… With all my heart. I loved Hieronymous, and I knew that we had to take a leap of faith. If we didn't, I’d be dead and Hieronymous would be lost to the world. I couldn't let either of those things come to pass. We both had fears. Somehow, I was the one who was able to overcome them… I didn't mind, it was just a little daunting.

Finally, after what felt like an age of convoluted thoughts and worries, I felt the waistband give a little, freeing his hard shaft from the confines of the slightly unforgiving fabric. Without breaking the kiss I let both my hands guide the garment down and off, casting the pants aside, not really caring where they ended up at this point.

I pulled away from his lips and opened my eyes, sharing a look of reassurance with him before pushing backwards to sit between his legs and take in the sight of my husband completely naked.

He was beautiful… There really was no other word for it. Even though I’d seen him topless before (heck, I used him as a pillow at night) I couldn't help but examine every bit of him. His pale skin told of weeks sat inside working or reading, and though he certainly wasn't muscly, there was definition that hinted at his strength with magic (I had read somewhere that magic wasn't an entirely mental endeavour – if you were physically weak, it would affect your ability to use spells as well as leaving you weak to attacks from enemies… Okay so I made that sound like some sort of video game…). Perhaps he wasn't the standard definition of attractive, with his slightly-larger-than-strictly-necessary nose, pale skin, thin build… But to me he was brilliant and beautiful.

I got told, once, that a person’s character is what you really find attractive. Even if they aren't particularly attractive physically, a beautiful personality will begin to shine through into how you perceive them. I couldn't really tell if that was what was happening right now… In all honesty, I’d found him pretty attractive already (maybe it was the British accent, I don’t know), but it was certainly a theory.

I let my eyes wander downwards, settling on his erect member. The fantasies paled in comparison, and suddenly my mind raced with thoughts of him pounding into me, but I shook them away. _Slowly, Arianna… He’s already terrified, and frankly, so are you._ I told myself. I wouldn't have been surprised if similar thoughts ran through his own mind. After all, it didn't matter if we both wanted it… Neither of us felt completely ready for it, and rushing to fulfill our wants would only lead to awkwardness down the line. That was something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

I didn't know what to do. _Should I kiss him again? Should I touch him? Or should I wait_ _for him to make a move?_ My mind raced, thoughts flickering like lights in a haunted house. Eventually, I decided to wait for him to make a move, like a game of chess, I’d made my move. He was in check. If he moved a certain way, he’d easily be able to escape me entirely… And that would be the end. I couldn't make another move, that was against the rules. Looking in his eyes, he seemed to understand my thought process and I saw the corner of his mouth twitch upwards in gratitude. I smiled gently. _Your move_. I told him with my eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that it's not too cruel a spot to end :/ But I've been writing all morning, my brain is getting a touch frazzled and it seemed like a good place to end that chapter... I hope you liked it, and let me know what you think x


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry this is much later than I thought it would be but... it's also longer than I thought it would be. This chapter is just over 3000 words! That's the longest chapter so far! I hope you enjoy it and sorry again for the long wait x

I knew that Hieronymous was struggling with the same confusion as I was, and though he was clearly grateful for the chance to think his options through, I saw a slight panic in his eyes. Reluctantly, I let my hand rest on his cheek. “We can stop if you’d like.” I said quietly, though I wanted nothing less. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was whether he was comfortable. I refused to push him and destroy whatever relationship was developing between us. He closed his eyes, leaning a little into my touch.

“A kind offer.” He acknowledged. “But I don’t believe either of us particularly want that at this stage…” he said it quietly, almost as a question. Was he afraid that I’d disagree? Because that certainly wasn’t going to happen. I wanted this… I wanted him. Us.

“No, I don’t think we do.” I reassured him. A long pause…

“Are you certain, Arianna?” he asked. Even though the answer was _I kind of have to be_ , I couldn’t help but smile that he was considering my feelings on the matter. So I just nodded and he pulled me down into a gentle kiss, full of reassurance and gentle care. The emotions passing between us made me feel a little dizzy, but in a good way. It was almost as if we were casting empathy, though I did not recall uttering an incantation. A part of me knew that it was simply the closeness of our bodies that allowed us to read each other so well.

Carefully, as if I was handling a piece of delicate china, I let my hand rest on his chest and stroked slowly down, across his smooth stomach, following the light dusting of hair down further until my fingers met the hot skin of his prick. Slowly, I traced up the length of him with one finger, and he let out a soft moan into my mouth. I couldn’t help smirking. It felt good to be in control for once… I repeated the action, making him shudder a little beneath me, and finally I broke the kiss in order to look into his eyes. I smiled at him, holding eye contact as I curled my fingers around his cock and began to stroke up and down. His eyes fluttered closed as I let my thumb brush over the tip, where a drop of pre-come had gathered. I smirked again.

The look on his face, the freedom of seeing him coming undone slowly before me… I had dreamt of it so many times, but now those dreams seemed ridiculous and inaccurate. The soft noises he couldn’t help making were driving me insane, heat pooling at my core, but I forced myself to ignore my own needs.

I was focusing on him… My husband, his needs, his desires… His aching cock in my hand, completely at my mercy.

At the same time, though, I had to control how far I took things. If I went too quickly, everything would crumble, and he would close himself off from me forever. I had to resist every urge my own body presented me with, and wait for explicit permission to give in to anything. In that sense, he had just as much control as me, not that I cared.

One way or another we would reach that crucial stage, what did it matter if we took it a little slower than strictly necessary? Despite our time-limit, we still had plenty of time for exploration and confidence-building… though exploration was my main focus right now.

So slowly, I continued, gently pulling and squeezing him, then releasing him for a moment in order to briefly caress his balls, drawing a shaky breath from his lips before I returned my hand to his straining cock. I sat back in order to see him better.

I kept my strokes slow. Occasionally, he would move his hips, trying to make me go faster, but all I would do is smirk and slow down even more. Eventually though, I gave in, tightening my hand and pumping, relishing the small moans he couldn’t hold back. I resisted the urge to use my mouth, that was for another time. Right now, I wanted to see him, to watch him climax and know that it had been because of me.

His moans became more desperate, and he began to softly groan out my name, over and over until finally he came, his seed spilling over my hand and onto his stomach as he shuddered through the orgasm. I sat back, rather proud of myself, and waited for him to recover.

As I waited, I couldn’t help but grow concerned over whether he would suddenly pull away from me… Why he would, I couldn’t fathom, but it crossed my mind all the same… and even though I was used to the paranoia, that didn’t stop it from panicking me. Time seemed to slow and a sick feeling settled in my stomach as I waited for his eyes to open.

But when they did, they did not widen in horror. He did not smile, but then that would have been out of character. Instead he gave me a steady look as the corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile just an acknowledgement, perhaps even a sign of gratitude. With a lazy wave of his hand he cast what I could only assume to be a basic cleansing spell over himself, which removed most of the aftermath from him, before he allowed me to crawl over to snuggle up against him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I was asleep in seconds.

When I woke up again, it was to an empty bed and the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. I smiled. His side of the bed still held a little bit of warmth, so he’d only moved recently.

Slowly, I pushed myself out of bed and glanced at the clock. Twelve o’clock!? As if to emphasise my realisation, my stomach grumbled unhappily. I sighed and made my way to my wardrobe to pull out some clothes. I settled on a plain vest top and some leggings, I didn’t plan on doing much anyway.

Just as I was pulling the vest top over my head, Hieronymous entered the room, covered only by a towel wrapped around his waist and rubbing his hair dry with a smaller towel. He paused when he saw me and I threw him a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Did I wake you?” he asked, a strange tone of guilt underlying his smooth voice.

“Maybe, I dunno. You were already in the shower when I woke up. It might have been my stomach.” I explained lightheartedly, and as if to second that, my stomach growled again… Loudly. He huffed a laugh and I flushed. “Yeah, probably my stomach…”  

“You should go and eat then. I shall join you shortly.” He suggested.

“Okay, you’d better show up.” I winked, making him roll his eyes as I slipped out of the door.

I sat down with a ham sandwich and a glass of orange juice (it was as close as I could get to a bacon sandwich), I noticed Ellen walking into the hall, carrying a large brown envelope (one of those ones that had a layer of bubble-wrap inside to protect whatever was inside it) as well as another ordinary, yellow one. As our eyes met, I gave her a little wave and she hurried over.

“Hey, Arianna, where were you this morning?” Ellen asked brightly. I flushed, but she didn’t seem to notice as she had continued speaking, clearly not expecting an answer. “Whoever’s doing the mail still doesn’t seem to know that you’re staying with Professor Grabiner now, these came for you.” I heard the way her voice tightened around the words, knowing she probably didn’t want to way them. I was grateful that she was at least _trying_ to act natural about it though. She pushed the package and envelope towards me before hurrying off to grab herself some lunch.

I wasn’t in a hurry to open the package, I had a feeling I knew what it was anyway. Besides, I was too hungry to put down my sandwich for anything.

Ellen returned quite quickly and sat across from me.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” She indicated the brown package, clearly curious as to what it was carrying.

“I’m pretty sure it’s my Sherlock Holmes book from my parents. I’m too hungry to care right now.”

“That’s what happens when you skip breakfast!”

I smiled. “Sorry, _Mom_.” It was comforting to have the old Ellen back. Sure, we weren’t completely back to normal, but then I expected we might never be. Each time I met her eyes I could see the guilt she felt for how she’d treated me. Behind that was the still-present confusion over my relationship with my husband, and behind that was our old friendship. Unless the front two could be eradicated we’d never go back to normal entirely. I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

“Where were you anyway? It’s not like you to sleep in.” I could tell a part of her didn’t want to ask the question, but the other part of her was simply trying to create conversation topics. I think she realised a little too late that she was afraid to hear the answer.

“Well I woke up at like eight, but fell back to sleep. When I woke up it was twelve. Go figure.” I said with a shrug. Ellen visibly relaxed and I mentally rolled my eyes.

“It happens to us all.” She said with a smile. _No… No it doesn’t._ My mind supplied against my will.

“Good afternoon.” His voice resonated behind me. I turned to smile at him, mouth full of my latest bite of sandwich and he raised an eyebrow. I quickly finished my mouthful and smiled sheepishly.

“Hi.” I said quietly, turning away to shove the last piece of sandwich into my mouth, before finally turning my attention to the brown package.

“Good afternoon, Professor…” Ellen muttered awkwardly.

“Miss Middleton.” He acknowledged. “Would it be acceptable for me to sit with you both?” he asked politely. I imagine Ellen nodded, since I saw him turn to me out of the corner of my eye. I was too busy chewing and trying to find a way to open the package (which was dead-lock-sealed with tape) to give a proper answer, so I just stuck my thumb up. He sat down quietly and began to eat.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t making much headway with my mail, turning it this way and that, searching for a chink in the armor that only my Mom could have wrapped. I heard a giggle resound in front of me.

“Arianna what are you doing?” Ellen asked

“Trying to find a way to open the damn thing! My Mom always wraps these things up so you can’t get in them…” I muttered, irritated by my lack of success so far.

“Why don’t you use magic?” Ellen suggested, and my eyes widened.

“You crazy!? What if I damage the book!? You know I’m crap at control!” I exclaimed, shutting my mouth quickly as I realised my language was less than suitable for the company I was keeping. I shot him an apologetic look, but he just rolled his eyes.

“I’m a teacher, not a parent. I’m also your husband, why on Earth should your language bother me?” he muttered, as though it were obvious. Ellen chuckled and I flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “Pass it here.” He indicated the package, and I handed it over with a sigh. He ran one finger across the mass of brown tape and it parted with ease. He handed it back and continued to eat, leaving me to stare at the perfect line.

“Thanks.” I muttered, tipping the envelope and carefully emptying it of its contents. It was indeed the Sherlock Holmes book I had asked for along with a folded piece of paper; a letter from my parents.

_Dear Arianna,_

_Here’s the book you asked for. Don’t slack on your work to read it, okay? You’ve read it before!_

_Hope everything is going well with your extra study._

_Love From_

_Mom and Dad_

Short but sweet. I couldn’t help the blush that crept into my cheeks as I thought about what my “extra study” actually was. I quickly shook the thought from my head and turned to the yellow envelope, where my name was scrawled in Virginia’s signature handwriting.

_Arianna,_

_‘Course I understand, girl! Magical customs aren’t something that you can change, no point holding it against you! Although it would’ve been nice to get a letter or something from you, Mrs Grabby!_

_Don’t worry about Ellen. I know you two will work things out, you’re just both so stubborn sometimes so it takes you longer than other people (like me!)._

_As for Grabby… I don’t think even he’s mean enough to just let you die, although it might have been more awkward if he’d known. I dunno, you’ll have to ask him (knowing you, you probably already have…)_

_Anyway! To more important things! My summer is great so far! Stupid Donald got shipped off to summer camp this year ‘cause Mom and Dad didn’t want to deal with anymore of his summer pranks. William’s all busy getting ready for College, so I get a lot of time to myself, which is good and bad. Pastel keeps invading my house though, so that’s always interesting._

_I hope you’re having a good summer, even though you’re stuck at school with your grumpy husband!_

_Stay positive!_

_Virginia_

I smiled, even though all the things she had mentioned had sorted themselves out now, it was nice to know that I’d had her support anyway.

Once we were done with lunch, Hieronymous excused himself to the library for the sake of some important research, and Ellen disappeared back to her room, probably to do the same. I elected to make use of Hieronymous’ desk and stationary again in order to write replies to my letters.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_Thank you for the book, it’s not actually for me, I’m lending it to a friend (our library is useless and doesn’t have a copy) so don’t worry, it won’t take up my study time._

_Everything’s going pretty well here, I hope you aren’t too bored without me :P_

_Love From_

_Arianna_

_Dear Virginia,_

_I’m writing now aren’t I? :P_

_Anyway, Ellen and I have pretty much sorted things out, though she does seem to be a bit awkward with me (I guess I can understand). She seems to be throwing herself into research to distract herself. And actually Hieronymous read my last letter to you over my shoulder (that was awkward) and said that he would still have saved me. But yeah, it would’ve been a lot more awkward in that circumstance._

_Glad to hear you’re enjoying your summer. I don’t do much with my time, mainly I just read so I’m not bored. Wish William good luck from me!_

_Arianna_

I sealed the two envelopes and put them aside to be sent later on, before settling on the bed to read another magic book, this time on combinations of White and Green magic.

I didn’t see Hieronymous until dinner, when he walked into the hall and sat across from me, a large book in one arm, tucked against his side, and his food in the other.

“My apologies, Arianna. I got rather caught up in my research.” He explained sheepishly, seemingly worried he might have upset me, though it was a subtle expression that most would have missed.

“Don’t worry about it.” I said with a smile. “I’m used to it by now.” He grimaced.

“You should not be.”

“Why not? Because you’re supposed to lavish attention on me every minute of the day? I know you, Hieronymous… You love your work. I’m hardly going to pull you away from it.”

“However, you were upset last time.”

“Because I hadn’t seen or talked to you all week. Different circumstances.” I explained. “I won’t deny I’d have liked to spend the day with you, but I understand that it’s a rarity. We’ve been married nearly six months, I know you’re a workaholic by now.” I said lightly, and while that seemed to appease him, he did tense quite suddenly. “You okay?”

“I… yes. I’m quite alright. You simply reminded me how little time we have left.”

“You didn’t forget _again_?” It was supposed to be a teasing remark, but he didn’t seem to notice the tone in my voice.

“No, I did not.” He sounded panicked, afraid to upset me. It was cute, but I wasn’t sure if I liked the thought of him being constantly on edge regarding my emotional state.

“Calm down, it was a joke. I know you wouldn’t forget again. Hey, sometimes I suddenly remember how much time we’ve got left. Quit worrying about upsetting me okay? I’m not that fragile.” I stuck my tongue out and he seemed to relax. “By the way, I left the book on the bedside table. You’d better read it, I went to a lot of trouble to get that for you.” He smirked.

“Very well, I shall begin it tonight.” I smiled.

We spent the evening sat together on the bed quietly reading, happy in each other’s company. I gave me a strangely warm feeling to know that we could do that comfortably now, just being with each other. Not talking, just… being.

It was past Eleven when he finally closed _A Study In Scarlet_ about a third of the way through. I followed suit, replacing the magic book on the shelf and moving to grab a nightie from my wardrobe while he excused himself to the bathroom.

Soon enough we were under the covers and I had snuggled up to him, as usual.

What was not usual was that he had turned to wrap his arms around me and slipped his hands under my nightie in order to caress my skin, running his fingers gently along the waistband of my panties and sending shivers through me. When he began to kiss me my confusion peaked, not that I minded what he was doing…

“Hiernoymous?” I inquired quietly when we broke apart for air, my voice husky. I felt the effect immediately as his erection pressed into my thigh. He kissed my neck.

“I’ve been quite rude, haven’t I?” he whispered in my ear, sending heat rushing to my core. “You were good to me this morning. I ought to return the favour…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! This is after all my first smut-fic so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT DEAD! Hi guys, I know it's been forever (what, six months? Yeesh :/) but I have valid reasons. Firstly, this chapter has been incredibly difficult to write. I would open the document, stare at it for hours, and write three words, then delete a whole paragraph and start it over. Each time they DO anything, it gets more difficult to write... Possibly because I'm not used to writing smut, but hey I'm doing my best.  
> Secondly, University has been killing lately :( Every day we get given MORE work, I'm doing two full plays (one of them a musical) and have lines to learn for them, essays to write, presentations to do, a dance exam to practice for, and a show to design (Set, props you name it) so my time has been limited to say the least. I literally finished this chapter TODAY, since we were finally given a day off, in which I flat out refused to do any work, so that's how this chapter actually even exists...  
> I know it isn't long, and I know 6 months is a long time to wait for such a short chapter but I hope you like it anyway xx

My heart was thudding against my rib-cage as though it wanted to smash through it, and I could feel the heat in my cheeks as he whispered into my ear. His voice was lower than normal, and had the hint of arousal I was learning to recognise. I heard him chuckle softly, clearly amused by my reaction, as he moved to kiss me, slowly… Exploring and experimenting as we had earlier.

Having had a while to think through this new development, I had realised that it was because we were becoming closer, more comfortable. It was easy to give in to desperate passion, but this was a more controlled, more loving embrace. _Does he love me?_ My mind asked, though it was cut off when I realised he had managed to maneuverer me onto my back and was pulling away from my lips in order to press a gentle kiss to my neck. I shuddered, feeling him smirk against my heated skin in triumph.

At some point, he had pinned my arms to the bed, not that it was particularly necessary. I was quite happy where I was.

He continued to kiss my neck in various places, until he found a spot that had me involuntarily arching my back a little and supressing a quiet moan. He began to suck gently, his teeth digging into the soft skin enough that it would probably leave a mark that I would have to hide. But I didn’t care, it felt too amazing to warrant worry.

Even so, the physical sensation was nothing compared to the emotions that managed to claw their way through the haze of pleasure so I could feel them. I felt _wanted_. For once I didn’t feel like I was a burden to him… Instead, I was his lover. I let the feeling wash over me, rushing into my blood, into every fibre of my body, and somehow it made the feeling of him pressed against me, his mouth warm and wet on my neck, all the sweeter.

He must have realised I had no intention of moving, because finally his hands left my arms and returned to my waist, pushing the fabric of my nightie up to expose my breasts and letting his hands rest on them for a moment. He muttered a spell under his breath, and my nightie was gone, presumably teleported away to some random location, I didn’t really care to think of it, too lost in the moment. His hands were cool against my heated skin and he began to trace patterns on my chest, still sucking on my neck as one hand slowly travelled across my stomach and down to the hem of my panties. Another shudder rippled through me as he pulled his mouth away from my neck and back to my lips, before dipping his fingers beneath the fabric of my underwear.

I could feel the heat pooling just beneath his cool hand as he began to pull the final piece of clothing from between my legs.

I suddenly felt self-conscious. Nobody had ever touched me in such an intimate way before… I’d never been completely at someone else’s mercy before. Was this how he had felt? Caught between ecstatic and terrified? Whatever feeling it was, it disappeared as he let his fingers brush down to finally touch me where I’d been longing for him to touch me since this whole debacle began. My eyes fluttered shut against my will and I arched a little into his touch, hearing the light huff of a laugh above me.

I couldn’t tell whether the coldness of his hands heightened the strange spikes of pleasure his touch was sending through me, for I had nothing to draw upon for a comparison. But, honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. The knowledge that now we both knew every inch of each other’s’ bodies was almost as brilliant as the waves of pleasure rippling over me from the point where his hand touched my flesh, pulling quiet, involuntary moans from my mouth.

Suddenly, he stopped, and I groaned at the loss, opening my eyes to plead silently with him. They met with a questioning look from his eyes and I realised, as my head cleared enough for me to actually form a coherent thought again, that he was asking permission. I frowned in confusion. _What the hell are you asking permission for?_ He raised an eyebrow, as if it should be obvious. I shrugged. _It’s not obvious to me, but honestly? I don’t think I’ll mind anything you do right now…_

It occurred to me quite suddenly, as he huffed another quiet laugh and smirked, that we’d just had a conversation entirely without actual words… _How strange._ I thought to myself, though perhaps after the events of the past few weeks it shouldn’t have surprised me… We had grown closer in the past 3 weeks than we’d managed in 5 months together, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that I could understand what he meant by a single movement, and yet I was.

However my train of thought was quickly cut off then by the realisation of what Hieronymous had been asking, as he acted upon my consent and slowly, oh so slowly, slipped a finger into me. My eyes closed again and I bit my lip, trying to hold back a moan as he stroked a particularly sensitive spot. However all the lip-biting in the world couldn’t stop me from arching again, and the moan that escaped my lips was by no means the quiet one I had expected, only hindered by the fact that my teeth were still holding my lip firmly.

I was too distracted to look at him, but if I had I imagine he would have been smirking.

It was such a foreign feeling, to have someone touching me so intimately, to feel his fingers moving inside me (I hadn’t even realised until that moment that he’d added another finger). But it was euphoric; nothing like how I’d imagined it. I’d imagined it very much like our initial attempts at passion: awkward and held back. But no, this was free and reckless, everything that went entirely against his nature and yet seemed to come so naturally to him in these moments of abandon.

I couldn’t even bring myself to worry about the aftermath as I pulled him back down to kiss me again, too busy feeling like I might explode from the sensations. His thumb pushed up through the wetness between my thighs and began to rub at my clit, all the while his long fingers stroking at the sweet spot inside me.

A part of me, somewhere in the back of my mind, could feel something akin to a very light pain, though by no means as powerful. Just my body telling me this wasn’t normal, though I knew it was simply not used to such sensations. But the sensation was nothing compared to the pleasure rolling through me. My moans grew in intensity, too strong for me to hold back anymore, even muffled as they were by his mouth I could barely believe such sounds could ever have come from me.

I tried to say his name, but between the kissing and how difficult it could be to say anyway, all I could do was moan more as my body seemed to catch fire, intense waves of pleasure rushing through me as my hips involuntarily bucked up into his touch.

It was as though I had my own personal fireworks display going off behind my eyelids as the orgasm ripped through me, leaving me shaking and panting as he pulled his fingers away from the wetness between my thighs and his kisses slowed.

I opened my eyes as he pulled away from me and gave him a breathless smile. The corner of his mouth quirked up minutely and there was an odd glint in his eyes, like he was pleased with himself, or relieved? Was he as nervous as I had been that morning? It seemed both natural and ridiculous. Hieronymous Grabiner didn’t get nervous.

But then, as I had learned, he wasn’t invincible (much as he liked to act like he was).

Suddenly very worn out, I found myself yawning as a warm contented tiredness settled itself into my skin. He rolled back over and I snuggled up to him as his arms wrapped around me. I was asleep in seconds.

I half-expected to wake up to an empty bed, but as I opened my eyes blearily it was to my husband’s face, peaceful and calm, breathing heavily, his mouth slightly agape and his fringe flopping over his eyes. His arm was slung loosely over me, so I tried not to move too much as I peeked over his sleeping form to check the time. It was nine o’clock, he was usually awake by eight and reading or something. It was odd, but everyone needed a lie-in occasionally, I supposed.

Just as I was about to close my eyes again, he shifted and yawned, his eyes blinking open. I smiled slightly.

“Morning.” I said, moving my hand to push his fringe out of the way. My smile faltered a little at the dark circles under his eyes. “Hieronymous?”

“What?” his voice was groggy., though it didn’t sound grumpy (well, no more than usual).

“When did you get to sleep?” I asked, concern flaring in my mind. He frowned a little.

“I… am unsure.” He muttered after a long silence.

It seemed odd. I had fallen asleep straight away, then again I’d been worn out… Was he laying awake regretting what had happened between us? No, that wasn’t possible… He’d looked so happy, by his standards, that it just didn’t make any sense. Perhaps I was just being silly, after all sometimes I just can’t sleep… There’s not always a reason. But he’d been so tired.

My head began to reel with possible explanations for this onset of insomnia.

“Is something on your mind?” I asked before I could stop myself. I cringed, sometimes I really needed to control my curiosity… His eyes widened minutely.

“No, nothing!” he answered, a little too quickly. I gulped.

“Hieronymous, you’d tell me if something was wrong right?” I pushed myself up onto my elbow in an attempt to give myself some kind of height advantage, but it didn’t seem to work.

“There is nothing wrong, Arianna.” He said, resting his hand on my shoulder and giving me that subtle ‘smile’. “But yes, I would tell you.”

I sighed, whether it was in relief or slight exasperation I couldn’t be sure, but I knew there was little point pushing for an answer from him. So I smiled.

“Okay. I think I’m going to go get breakfast, you coming?” I asked as I rolled over to clamber out of bed. “You don’t have to, if you’re tired that is…”

“No, I shall accompany you.” He said, pushing himself up to sit and looking over to me. A light blush coloured his cheeks and I frowned as I stood, before I realised, blushing myself, that I’d never actually put my pyjamas back on. With a slight cough I looked away from him.

It didn’t really make sense, why did I feel awkward after last night? He’d already seen me naked now, so what point was there in wanting to hide myself from him now?

If I was honest, I could most likely attribute it to a slight lack of confidence. Yes, he’d seen me naked, but that was once. There were hundreds of imperfections he was probably yet to notice, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to give him the chance to find them and realise that he deserved better.

As I pulled on my clothes, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever get over this odd habit for self-doubt concerning whether he liked me or not…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any constructive criticisim is greatly appreciated x


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. This is a rewrite of a chapter that honestly I hated with a passion. It was my worst piece of writing to date, and I am sorry for that.  
> I would like to thank Flame1213, Ariadne7, honorelle, Sera, Syberia, friedtofu and Calla for your comments and feedback on the original, which really helped me in re-writing this chapter. I hope you won't be disappointed!

Our walk to breakfast was peaceful enough, he with a book slung under his arm setting the pace, and me struggling to keep up with his long strides. At one point he must have realised I was practically jogging, because he slowed down.  
I had a yearning to grab hold of his hand, or to link his arm. But I refrained. It wouldn’t do to push the boundaries of our public appearance, when we were already testing them on private terms.  
He yawned a lot through breakfast.  
“Hieronymous.” I finally said, after his fifth yawn in ten minutes. He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe you should go back to bed.” The mere suggestion seemed repulsive to him, as he sneered at me. “Just a suggestion…” I muttered, looking down at my empty bowl awkwardly.  
“I am perfectly fine, Arianna. I do not need to-” another yawn “- go back to bed…” I rolled my eyes. I should really have learnt by now that he’d never listen to me. He left without another word and I was left on my own at the table.  
Well, until Ellen came and sat next to me.  
“Arianna?” It was then that I realised my head had fallen into my hands, as I turned it to look at my blonde friend. “What’s wrong?”  
“I don’t know…”  
“You don’t know what’s wrong?”  
“With him.” I added. Ellen suddenly seemed to twig. “He’s acting weird, he didn’t sleep well and he just up and left without so much as a ‘see you later’, or whatever his version of that would be…”  
“Maybe he’s just having an off day…” Ellen tried, although she didn’t sound convinced herself. I sighed. “Try not to worry.” I nodded and before I knew it Ellen was gone too. Sometimes I hated being surrounded by bookworms.  
It took some effort to push myself up from the table and leave the hall. So long in fact that I was the last person left in there. I glanced at the clock-tower. 11:30… That meant I’d been sat in there for at least an hour and a half… Funny, how time slips away when you’re worrying about things.  
Unsure what else to do with myself, I found myself in the piano room again, weaving melodies to try and untangle my thoughts. Sadly, it didn’t seem to help and I gave up after a short while, deciding to wander the grounds of the school instead. As I made my way towards the forest, I saw Ellen sat on a bench with a notebook, scribbling notes as she cast spells. I contemplated going over to talk to her, but she looked so immersed in her work it hardly seemed worth it to try. So I aimlessly meandered through the trees, until I found myself at the main wall. Now what? I thought, and ended up sitting against it. Perhaps the silence would aid my thoughts.  
“Arianna?” A familiar voice called out to me. I opened my eyes- wait, when did I fall asleep?¬¬- and Ellen was crouched in front of me, her hand on my shoulder.  
“Ellen… What time is it?”   
“It’s nearly dinner. I was just taking a walk and I saw you over here. Are you okay?”  
“Yeah… just tired I guess…”  
“Come on, let’s go get dinner.” She smiled at me, holding out her hand to help me up. I returned her smile. I was reminded for a moment how glad I am to still have her as my friend, despite everything. I could not seem to make myself eat, though, and instead I just ended up pushing my food around the plate. “Still worried?” Ellen prompted me. I just let out a sigh.  
“It doesn’t matter. He won’t tell me what’s wrong, so I shouldn’t worry about it…” I said, half-heartedly. I truly wanted him to tell me what was wrong, but I knew what he was like. Besides, maybe Ellen was right, and he’d just been grumpy because he was tired or something.   
That didn’t stop me thinking about it. I excused myself having only eaten half of my plate of food and headed back to our room, in the hope of finding a book to read; anything to stave off this worry eating away unnecessarily at my mind.  
As I was walking through the corridor, I considered going to the dorm room… But what good would that do? I couldn’t avoid him simply because I was scared of what was wrong… Could I?  
No. That’s something he would do.  
So I returned to our room, unsurprised that he was nowhere to be found. I could feel a slight headache beginning to form as my thoughts continued to swirl out of control. Stupid little assumptions and ideas that made no logical sense but which haunted my mind even so.  
Perhaps he had suddenly realised, after doing something so intimate, that he really was disgusted by me. Perhaps one of my many imperfections had become glaringly obvious to him between the time I went to sleep and the time he managed to drift off. Perhaps it was all a lie to begin with and he was just using me for – no Arianna, that’s just ridiculous, that’s completely against his character.  
Whatever it was, he didn’t want me knowing what it was. He could simply not wish to worry me, but surely he’d have figured out by now that it only worried me mo- Again, don’t be silly… He might be smart, but when it comes to emotions, he hasn’t got a clue.  
With an exasperated sigh, I flung myself onto the bed, staring up at the canopy without knowing entirely why I was doing so. Did I think it would help? Because I was wrong. All I could think was that just the evening before Hieronymous had been whispering in my ear, and I had felt wanted, as though for the first time I wasn’t a burden on him. Less than twenty-four hours later and those wonderful feelings felt like years ago, as though they were a part of some fever dream, a wish that would never be granted.  
I began to cry quietly, turning over to look at the thin white veil over the window and curling up as the tears dripped slowly down my face.  
The next thing I knew, I woke up to see that it was dark outside. When did I fall asleep? I wondered to myself. I quickly realised that something had woken me up as I heard soft footsteps heading towards the desk. I rolled over slightly to see.  
“Hieronymous?” My voice was thicker and rougher than I had expected.  
“Ah, forgive me… I did not intend to wake you.”  
“It’s okay…”  
I couldn’t help but notice he was refusing to look at me, and he had tensed at soon as he had heard my voice. I gulped back another wave of tears.  
“Hieronymous?”  
“Yes?” he asked tentatively.  
“What’s wrong?”  
A sigh made its way to me from across the room. “There is nothing wrong, Arianna.”  
“Then why won’t you look at me?”  
A long pause stretched between us, and each millisecond of silence seemed to last for an entire lifetime. I could feel the tears burning in my eyes as I sat on the bed, waiting for him to turn around and look at me, to acknowledge that I knew something was wrong and to just admit it.  
“I apologise… I have been quite deep in thought today, Arianna. I was not aware that I was acting any differently towards you.” His voice sounded… wrong…  
“That’s not true.”  
Silence.  
“Hieronymous?”  
“You are not the only one that feels fear.” He whispered, almost inaudibly.  
“What do you mean?” My voice was raw, my throat dry and he seemed shocked that I’d heard him, because suddenly he turned to look at me.  
“You are scared, are you not?”  
“Of this? A little… But I’m more scared of-”  
“Of me not wanting you.”  
“Yeah…”  
“Has it not occurred to you that I feel the same? I am old, Arianna.”  
“You’re in your early thirties, that isn’t that old.”  
“I am almost double your age, Arianna! I realise that you seem to be unaffected by that fact, but I am… concerned.”  
“Why…? Because… I’m too childish?”  
“Not in the slightest. Because…” he took a breath. His voice sounded strained, probably because he wasn’t used to talking about his feelings. He probably hadn’t done so in many years… “I am not known for my looks, nor my kindness, nor any positive quality. These things will not improve with time, Arianna.”  
“Hieronymous… I didn’t…” I had to clear my throat for a moment and compose myself. “I didn’t fall in love with you for your looks… or your kindness.” His eyes widened and I looked away, feeling myself blush.   
“Arianna…” this is it, I told myself. This is where it all falls apart. “I am not… comfortable saying such… such things.”  
“I… I’m sorry.” A tear slipped down my cheek.  
“But that is not to say I do not care, nor that I will… never be able to say them. Just… now I am… confused. I am feeling things I haven’t felt for years, and some that I have never felt before at all. I am thirty one, I thought I had felt all I was ever to feel. It will take time for me to adjust.”  
“So… you don’t… h-hate me?”  
“Ridiculous girl, of course not…” I could just see the warm smile he felt fit to give me in the pale moonlight coming from the window. He flicked his wrist and the lights in the room lit up with a gentle glow as he walked towards me and gently placed his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and damp with tears and he lifted a hand to wipe them away. “I do not hate you. Nor do I believe that to be possible. I simply need time. That may be something we do not have at this moment, and it…. Confuses things more, I admit. However, once this debacle is over, we will have all the time in the world to figure out what we want. I have some idea, but my mind is far too scrambled to fully extract it. Do you understand?”  
“I… I think so.” I managed a weak smile, and pulled him into a hug. It took him a moment, but eventually his arms settled around my shoulders. “I’m tired…”  
“As am I…”  
We went to bed more at ease. While it was little over a week now until our deadline, it did feel like we had far more time than that. I snuggled up to him, his arm wrapped around me, and I felt myself smile as I drifted off.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes I live again! I find myself recovering from illness after overworking myself at university (considering I haven't had a break since at least 2 months ago, and I still had to pull 3 all nighters to get everything done, I'm hardly surprised) and with a little time to spare at last I managed a chapter :) I'm hoping to get the smut rolling again next chapter, this was just a character development one, apologies for that! I hope the next wait won't be too long...

The next morning, I woke up before him, still quite disorientated and worried about everything that was going on. It was only one week now… He’d wake up soon, and be out of the door. Monday meant summer classes, and meetings, and whatever else he did. I admit that I felt conflicted about him being gone all day. I should be sad, and I was a little… I always missed him on weekdays and I would get quite bored. However, my mind was still whirring, trying to sort out how to feel about the developments of the previous evening, and I couldn’t help but be grateful that I would be able to work those thoughts out at my own pace, for today at the very least.

As predicted, a groan resounded beside me. He flicked his wrist irritatedly, and his frown vanished. Well… it softened. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. I smiled at him, wondering how I could find someone who tried to be terrifying so very adorable, but then I dismissed the thought. I could think of it later. For now, I focussed on projecting an image of calm positivity, as was often my way.

“Good morning, Hieronymous.” I said gently, yet still causing him to start. His eyes opened and he turned to me, sat up in bed.

“Arianna. Good morning. Why are you awake already?”

“I did sleep a fair bit yesterday…” was all I offered to him. It wasn’t really hiding the truth, so much as saving it for when I fully understood it. I needed to think today, and I didn’t want him worrying. My thoughts strayed briefly to whether he would indeed worry about me. But again, I filed them away for further perusal later.

“I see.” Apparently appeased by my answer, Hieronymous removed himself from under the covers and moved towards the bathroom. He stopped a little suddenly and turned to me. “Arianna.” He sounded like he was panicking, but trying to hide it. I gulped.

“Yes?”

“I will be very busy this week and next week… I shall only have the weekend free…” I nodded, immediately realising his concern.

“I know… I figured you’d be pretty busy.”

“We haven’t much time left.”

“I know.”

“This weekend is the last chance-”

“Hieronymous.” I cut him off, and he took a breath. “I know. I suppose it’s ready or not this weekend, huh?” I tried to laugh it off, but he must have caught the nervous stammer in my voice.

“Arianna… Do you not feel ready?”

“I don’t have a choice either way, Hieronymous. I don’t want to die, and I’m certainly not letting you lose your magic!” I blurted, then calmed myself. “You have a choice…”

“No. I do not. Forgive me, I realise asking you that was perhaps… Ill advised. However, I am concerned. Many girls your age are most certainly not ready for such a step.”

“Hieronymous… I’m as ready as I can be in these circumstances. Please… just…” I could feel tears in my eyes from the stress of the conversation, and I tried to push them back. He stood there for a long while, awkwardly looking at me, like a child who didn’t know the answer to the question he’d just been asked. I sighed. “There’s no point worrying about it now, Hieronymous. We can work things out when this is all sorted, like you said. Until then, let’s just… go on as normal, okay?” I looked at him, pleading with him to understand, and he smiled softly.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I of all people should understand that notion. Forgive me, Arianna. I shan’t bring it up again.” I didn’t realise he’d walked over to me until a slender hand rested on my shoulder. I smiled up at him.

“You should get going.”

Glancing at the clock, he sighed. “Well, I shall have to go without a shower today.” I chuckled, avoiding the obvious fact that it was his own fault he was running late now.

“You look fine.” He scowled at me, as though I had just cheated on a test. “I’m not lying, Hieronymous. You can surely go one day without a shower.”

He sighed. “Very well. But if one student whispers about my hair looking greasy…” he sent another, more threatening scowl my way.

“Okay, okay! I’ll get it in the neck! I get it!” I held my hands up in surrender, and he smirked, before going to pull on his robes. “Have a good day.” I said as he headed towards the door.

“A good day… I wonder what that would be like.” He muttered, granting me another smirk. “I shall see you later.” And he was gone. I smiled, then laid back down in the large bed. It felt too large without the presence of my husband, but I tried to ignore the feeling, closing my eyes and letting my mind wander into the archives of thoughts I had saved for this moment.

A million things rushed through my mind. Thoughts and feeling jumbling themselves up into a giant mass of swirling words and indeterminable shapes.  I had to take a few moments just to find one thing to focus on for the time being.

Firstly… How did I truly feel about my accidental husband? This surely was an easy question. I had even admitted to him that I had fallen in love with him. But what confused us both was why I had. What had drawn me to him in the first place, besides the obvious? It was no matter of Stockholm syndrome, or whatever other psychological crap could be applied to the situation. I was in no way trapped, or forced to care about him. He had tried to push me away several times. He had offered me many escapes. Well, until we had found out about the law. But I had fallen for him before the law, that much I was certain of. I had no sense of obligation to him before then. I could have avoided him quite happily with no consequences, and avoided all of these messy emotions. If I had done that, perhaps I would have rather done things a different way, when this law had come to light, if it even had. Though somehow, I doubt I would have wanted my memories altered. The very thought of that horrified me from the start.

That was another thing to think about... What if it had never been discovered? What if Ellen had never been reading that book, and we had gone on oblivious to our impending doom until it was too late? Would I have even had the chance to say how sorry I was for what would happen to him? Would it all have been over quickly? Or would we both have suffered. I liked to think that Hieronymous at least would have simply woken up with no memory. I could not imagine, without making myself nauseous, the pain he could have gone through. And me? Would the Manus have toyed with me? Laughed and jeered as it slowly ripped me to shreds? And what of my parents… To find their only daughter dead in her bed, with no indication of who or what had caused it? No way to get justice, just a dead daughter and a million questions… How horrid.

I realised, opening my eyes briefly, that the thought of such a horrendous end to our story had brought tears to my eyes. With that thought process well and truly done with, I closed my eyes again and hastily moved on.

The next thing to jump out of the mess of words was his name. Hieronymous. How did he feel? I admitted to myself that I had been slightly drowsy at the time of our conversation the night before, and had not fully taken in all he had said. Even if I had, I doubted I would have been able to decipher it anyway. Neither of us were well-versed in the subject of love. That made interpreting each other’s feelings slightly more… difficult. But it was clear that he cared. That much was obvious to me now, after the past weeks in his company. My mind flickered to his worried face when I had decided to leave my room because of arguments with Ellen, and each time he had upset me unintentionally. Whether he was certain of a romantic urge or not, it _was_ certain that he cared for me. And if I was honest, that seemed to be all he knew as well. He didn’t seem against it in any way. But he said he wasn’t ready. I doubt if I would be if I had been through the things he had. His heart was closed off, and guarded by all manner of mental blocks. To him, this must feel incredibly fast as well, as though this ridiculous law was forcing him to decide before he was fully ready to do so.

Anger flared in my mind at the very thought of that law. Just as I had become comfortable with the situation of being married, it had come along and all of a sudden everything was different. Everything was a rush against time, a blind panic to save whatever we could of our rapidly disintegrating lives… It came in like a great tornado to sweep up what little we had and force us to take action lest we lose it forever.

None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for that ridiculous law. Perhaps without it things could have been different. Instead of a house of cards, we could have used bricks to carefully construct a relationship built on trust. It would have been slower, but in the end more likely to last… Or perhaps we would never have reached this point. Perhaps if we’d had the chance to go slower he would have been able to pull away from the idea of us ever being more than a marriage of convenience… Perhaps he would have convinced me to leave, or forced me to. Without this incentive, how could I ever assume anything would have happened between us?

I realised, of course, how foolish it was of me to dwell on such things when they didn’t happen. The law _did_ exist, and we _had_ to do this now. We were too far now to ever go back on what we had said. We had decided to save one another, ready or not.

But I did love him. And that was all that mattered anymore. I could deal with death, I suppose, so long as I knew it would make him happy. But knowing him, despite all the pain he had suffered, and how much he complained… I could not bring myself to believe that he would in any way be better of in the land of the non-magical, with no memory to guide him.

Without our memories, what are we? Shells of people. Our memories shape us, and I cannot believe that Hieronymous would ever think any differently on such a point. Yes, he has suffered, but it created the man that I fell in love with. I do wish he had never had to suffer so, but it made him. And I would never change my husband… Nor would I change the things that had happened to me to lead me to be with him.

I sighed, content with my thoughts. Opening my eyes, I let myself sit up.

There were hundreds upon thousands of other words and issues floating around in my head, but they were not relevant now. Many involved my parents, or my schoolwork. Ellen and Virginia were mixed in there too, along with a few of my old friends, who had always been on my mind.

There was little to be done about most of them, but I still thought of them. For now, though, I pushed all those thoughts back and shut the doors to the archive again, letting the thoughts I had resolved float freely around my mind again as simple backdrops instead of niggling worries.

Looking at the clock on the bedside table, I balked. It was 2pm! How long had I been laying there? Hieronymous was prone to leaving for breakfast at around nine, ten at the latest. That meant I’d been here for at least four hours… It had barely felt like a few minutes.

I shook my head and rolled from the bed. I felt rested, but my stomach was churning. I hadn’t noticed until I’d stood up, but it made me feel a little dizzy, and a headache had already begun to form at my temples. With a sigh, I got myself dressed and went to the canteen to grab a leftover sandwich or something.


End file.
